Adventum Aduro
by Lammybug
Summary: The time to act is now. For, what is coming, cannot be stopped.
1. Carceres

A/N: Here we go again. I didn't think I'd really be going back to the beginning. This is going to be a real challenge because most of my theories went into Noctum and now, we'll see where the road takes us. This story has nothing to do with Noctum or any of my other stories. You'll find this out quite quickly. Enjoy!

Adventum Aduro is latin for "The coming of the light".

Carceres is latin for "The starting place of a race".

_**Carceres**_

_There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so._

_An isolated nation protected by an ancient line of kings._

_A modern civilization alive with the Crystal's songs of swords and sorcery._

_A lone kingdom fighting to forestall the outer world from imposing its heretic order._

_The struggle for the final Crystal is merely the prologue to the chronicles of a new era._

A procession of three black, armored cars race through an empty tunnel onto an open highway. The moon has just reached its zenith and is at its peak of fullness and brightness. Its beams pass along the glassy skyscrapers of the city and gives the silent night an eery glean. A lone figure sits in the back seat of one of the racing cars. The radio plays to drown out the echoing noise of the car.

"According to the State Minister, the 13th peace conference with the Kings and Nihilsomno ended safely. Within the conference, talk regarding the peaceful use of our nation's Crystal has resumed. Our people hope for a period of peace lasting hundreds of years. Additionally, the time of Prince Noctis' coronation draws near..."

He does not hear more than that. He does not bother to. The talk of his coming coronation never fails to make him feel nothing but apprehension and unease. With the coming of his appointment as King, would be the weighty responsibility of an entire nation relying on him. All those people, depending upon him to keep them safe and make sure that their Crystal would forever keep them safe from the outside world. So much pressure and accountability will be pressed up on his shoulders. It does not matter that he will be controlled. It does not matter that he is still just a boy.

As if he, himself, could forget his youth and inexperience. He saw the looks the Concilium gave him every time he met with them. When he had been younger, he had gone through the typical optimistic phase that only the young can have. The brighter outlook on life that has now died and he knows better than to expect that his decisions be taken seriously. A crown on his head would make no difference. He would be but a puppet to their schemes. At least, that is what they had planned for him. Yet youth, the very thing that they sneered and scoffed at would be their undoing. For with youth, one had the strength to fight _longer_. Which in this case, he had an abundance of. Winning small battles did nothing for them if he won the war. It was just a matter of biding his time until he could reign without the fear of their wrath. For now, he would wait and pretend to play the puppet like they had trained him to do. He finds it odd to think that they should think his acquiescence to be that of defeat. Passive aggressiveness was how he had learned to live and he has learned ways to vent out his frustrations. His silence would be the weapon that they would not hear striking until he was ready. Until that time comes , he pretends.

What life has taught him so far is that there are moments where you must pretend to be something else. Just like earlier. The end of the 13th peace conference signaled a dinner party to be held in one of the highest penthouses available in Nihilsomno. Everything about the surroundings was a point, a display, to show how ostentatious and prominent their city was to every one else. There was nothing if not the finest in everything. He supposes that makes him out to be rather spoiled. There was nothing of his that was not the best. Second rate being something that he never had to settle for. That is what everyone else thought of his life anyway. The reality was that there was life in the public eye and there was the truth in private. He feels his limitations more prominently when conversing at the official dinners. His comparisons to a lifeless puppet on a short leash of taut strings is most noticeable during these social settings. For the most part, he is able to keep to himself and does not have to suffer too much idle conversation. It is also a place where the high officials all took the opportunity to introduce him to their daughters. All of whom were considered to be quite beautiful. They would not dare show him one that was not. For a spoiled prince was not going to settle for a woman that was second rate in physical beauty.

Beauty, though, is something that he has not seen in his life. The women around him are shiny and painted and pretty but they are never truly beautiful. They never possessed the sort of beauty that would appeal to him. An attractive shell was only just a shell no matter how you looked at it. There was nothing inside, no mystery to be solved and it was this lack of substance that made them lacking his eyes. No amount of flirty eyes could have enticed him. He knew what they wanted and he knew why they wanted him. Had he been as vain and stupid a prince as they had believed him to be, he might have taken most of them up on their offers of private interludes. The momentary pleasure would not have been worth the repercussions he would have had to face afterward. He finds the even the thought to be distasteful. It also helps that he is shy. So it makes it even easier to keep up the facade of an arrogant prince than it is to show the secret person beneath. He knows they would never understand what he really was. There was nobody that would truly understand what he really is. He has already accepted that.

It is with these thoughts running through his head as he was introduced to one lady after another. Fine breeding and excellent manners did not go so far for him either. It only led to witless conversation and flashy smiles did not impress him either. He found himself looking up at the sky more often than not as he listened looked at the light above. The ever present light that reminded him what he was when he could never forget. What he was not sure he wanted to forget.

That is when he saw a flash of white as it whisked passed him quickly. He had been too busy caught up in his own thoughts to see who it had been. It had been more than the sight itself but the trace of energy that he had felt when they had passed that had him turning his head in their direction. The pulsing energy of another. Not just any other, but someone like him. Like him in a way that no one else had been. It had confused him and his curiosity had been peaked. He had turned just as the white figure began to ascend the metal stairway to the observation deck. It had been female. That too had puzzled him as well as the feeling that he knew her. Knew her not in the sense that she looked familiar. It was more a feeling that she was someone that he should know. She was someone that he needed to know.

He thinks that is why he followed her up those stairs. Why of all the women at that dinner, it was she that had been the one to catch his attention. To not only gain his interest but compel him to follow her when it had been him that had been sought after all night. It was like an other worldly experience of feeling that this woman was different. That there was a different kind of woman that he was used to. It was difficult to describe. He had never felt such a strong bond so immediately with anyone. Most especially that of a stranger. It had put him instantly on his guard and then, something else that he had not felt in a long while. She had made him nervous. That should have stopped him, but it had not stopped him from continuing up those stairs so that he could get a better look at her.

His feet took him slowly to the top and he found her gazing thoughtfully at the portrait of the goddess. Her hands were loosely clasped in front of her and there had been nothing about her had been threatening in the least. His usual cynical nature made him think that those were the most dangerous. The ones you thought were safe until the moment you found a knife embedded into your back. He has already learned that lesson. Yet, gazing upon her, he felt himself softening reluctantly. It did not even phase him that it looked as if she had been waiting for him. That she knew that he would follow her up there. He had never seen a more intriguing and enticing sight before. That pull, that feeling of familiarity rushed him closer as she finally turned to smile at him. It was the glow, he thinks. That ethereal glow that had lit up her face and sparkled her eyes that made his senses ignite and heighten. It was nothing but heart stopping.

She was from the Tenebrae party. He could tell that right away from the crest embroidered on her chest. Her dress had been simple, unassuming yet feminine and appealing. It had still been alluring and eye catching without even meaning to. It had been the perfect blend of indescribable and unforgettable. The fact that she was not there to try and gain his attentions made her that much more appealing in his eyes. His brain had wanted to speak but his voice could not form the words. It did not matter that his mind was racing, it could not speak the questions running through it. So his steps had taken him not ten feet away from her when he stopped to try and collect himself.

"Lord Noctis," the bright creature behind him had spoken. "You can see the light, right?"

The question had surprised him enough to break out of his stupor and walk closer, only to stop when she looked up towards the stars. No one had ever spoken so freely about it with him before. His eyes had followed hers to look up at the familiar light briefly before he turned to watch the awed wonderment on her face. He knows he has never looked upon the light with such fondness. His interest was peaked yet more.

"Was that what you were looking at from downstairs?" she asked as she took a playful step towards him.

The directness of her question. The openness in her tone, made him step back and try to walk away but she followed behind him. How she could be so upfront so as to confess that she had been watching him takes him aback. She had not even bothered to be coy about it.

"Pretty much. When did you start seeing it?" he asked with his usual facade of casual indifference. Outside, that is, though on the inside he was anything but indifferent.

"When I was a child," she had answered in a small, sad voice as she continued to walk beside him.

"A near death experience, I presume?" His tone may have been aloof but he had listened with rapt attention for her answer.

"Yes..." she responded and it was the first hesitation he had heard in her. "You too?"

"It was pretty horrible," he answered with a shake of his head. That was not something that he liked to think about.

There was a pause as they walked and then she spoke again.

"The goddess Etro shall open the gate, welcoming the souls of the dead. When that occurs, a bright light shall shine through the skies from the land of the dead," she relayed. The way that she spoke had him pausing in his stride to look at her. "That is the legend. It is a Tenebrae legend."

"We have the same legend here," had been his response.

"Did the light give you power?" she had asked and her tone became playful again, tilting her head in a somewhat teasing manner.

"No," was his response, with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. "I do not need anything like that. I am fine as I am."

"I know, right?" she asked excitedly. "No matter what kind of power it is, if it was at the cost of someone's life..." She stops to shudder. "It would give me nightmares."

Then she should not have ever spoken to him.

"Same," he said instead with that same unfeeling emotion. "But it is a ridiculous bedtime story," he commented. Then he had issued her a warning. "You should not speak to others about the light."

"Why?"

"Being different can cause a lot of trouble," he replied as he sat down on one of the lounges. The statement is left unfinished as he looked up at her. "Do you not think so?"

"But if it were just a bedtime story, what do you think the light really is?"

Together, their faces had turned to look up at the light again, but it is the sight of her that he found more fascinating.

"It is merely something that is there. Is that not enough?" It was a rhetorical question and he did not give her time to answer before he was on his feet again. "You are...?"

"Stella," she answered.

"Stella," he repeated as he tested the sound on his tongue and found himself smiling at her. "I should be going."

"Thank you for your time, Prince Noctis."

"Just Noct is fine," he had quickly added. He could not have born remaining so formal with her. Despite his words, he had hesitated his departure in favor of staying with her another quiet moment.

"I must get going too," she said before the moment stretched too long. She took a few steps away from him. It had amused him that this entire interlude had been completely the opposite than the ones with the women downstairs. He felt a strange urge to call out for her to stop but she had already stopped to look back at him. "I feel like I have received something from the light tonight," she said as she looked up at the light again. "I got a chance to speak with you."

His reaction had been to shrug with a smirk before replying. "Well, now you will have nightmares."

Instead of taking offense, she turned playful again. "You're a mean one, aren't you, Prince Noctis?" she laughed and he found it to be natural and not forced. Which had endeared her to him even more.

"Noct," he reminds her with another smirk.

"I will call you that the next time we meet," she promised with that same almost shy smile that made him feel something he had not felt before and could not name. "You should come to Tenebrae sometime. I'll show you around."

"That sounds interesting. I shall think about it," he answered, giving her another smirk.

She smiled another one of those smiles before she rushed away and out of his sight. Automatically, he had looked up at the light.

_Who are you? _The voice whispered to him.

"That is my line," he had answered angrily. It did not matter that he had been thinking the same thing. He turned abruptly and made his way back to rejoin the party and become the controlled puppet once more.

It is only now, during the dark hours of his many sleepless nights that he can escape to the temple of Etro and let his thoughts roam free. He finds solace here, within this moonlit chamber. That is where he sits, on a black throne within a lonely room, as he thinks over the events of earlier. Of how he had come to meet Stella. The images of her face played and replayed in his memory and the pictures still caused that unknown feeling to well inside him. How odd that they should help him as he tries to find rest. It is within this veil between wakefulness and sleep that he hears the familiar chants in his ears.

_The kingdom sleeps and children's groans never diminish nor can they hope._

_This tragedy destroys every beloved thing in front of them. And within this never-ending night, look there, the real vision on the edge._

_I will see you and the next morning the time will awake._

The voice is haunting and melodic and after hearing it so long, it is almost soothing. Much like a dark lullaby to help him sleep at night when he knows he will not sleep. Often times he feels like a divided man faced with tragedy at every turn. His gift is only that of destruction and his punishment is to bear and endure the fears of everyone around him throughout time. It is what makes him uneasy when he thinks about being king and finally inheriting his throne. For then it would be true. He would be carrying, within himself, every fear and dread that his people suffer. In this city of never ending night, there was nothing to escape the nightmares of the dark. Nightmares of which you cannot escape, though you may wake.

As his breathing slows and evens out, he can feel himself relax against the melody of the song only he can hear as it whispers in his ear. The pull of sleep is just about to grip himwhen a frown creases his forehead and he blinks open his eyes. He hears the sound of echoing screams as he raising his head from resting upon his black gloved hand. He moves to stand up as he feels that something is not right outside. He calmly walks out of the inner chamber to see why he feels a disturbance.

He is just outside the doors, between the two murky, tearful statues of the entrance when he sees his bodyguards lying dead on top of the stone steps. Looking at them briefly, he looks onto the street to see a small infantry of armored soldiers. Red eyes blink at them as he tries to place where they might have come from. They look surprised to see him standing there alone. Their confusion disappoints him. Unafraid, he makes his first step towards them when one of them regains his wits and opens fire upon him. That seems to make the rest regain themselves as the rest open fire as well. Bullets fly towards him but he does not even break his stride as shards of crystal fly about him and his weapons protect him from the fire.

Another test. Another show of revolt. As if he were some sort of side show to be displayed. If a show is what they want. It is a show that they will get. He raises his fingers before his face and swipes down with a swift stroke. The motion causes his weapons to appear and flash around him. They begin to swirl around his body and with a quick flick of his wrists, he grabs his choice. His eye flashes red as the sounds of revying erupts from his sword. They made the first move. He shall make the last.

Rushing head long towards them with bullets flying towards him, he swipes and slices bodies as he runs. His movements are fluid and precise as he exacts revenge against this intrusion. He catapults himself off the arm of one soldier while snatching a gun from another. Gripping a pole, he swings his body as he returns fire to his enemies. Using that momentum, he lands with his legs around the head of one man and twists his neck. His feel have not even touched the ground, before he flicks both wrists and throws his own knives towards the front line. One tries to shoot him in the back before he is on him. Using his sword, he traps the gun within the hilt and twists. There is the sound of crunching and breaking bone along with a scream of agony as he dislocates the man's arm to use his own gun to fire upon his comrades.

They pause in their shooting and he makes his way back up the stairs to take care of the ones climbing down the walls of the temple. Their attempts at following are thwarted when he pushes them back as if they were reeds, away from him. He is here and he is there. Then he is not on the ground any longer before he appears along the walls himself and uses the gravity of his falls to bury his sword to the hilt within the bodies of his foes. His movements are so fast that they know not where to shoot to hit him. Until he is upon the ground once more and they finally realize that bullets will not penetrate his shields. So they try to shoot him with something stronger, something more explosive. It flies towards him in the blink of an eye and a dust cloud surrounds his form as it impacts. Until it evaporates to show the displeasure displayed upon his face. He glares back in warning as his weapons create a whirlwind around him to make his point before casually strolling back to where he had come from. Only fools would follow.

It almost felt like it had been a dream as he makes his way back into the inner chamber and sits upon his throne once more. Assassination attempts were not too common, but they happen often enough that he does not feel compelled to think about the bodies he has left outside. These were dark days and he was on the verge of fully gaining his power. There would be many more attempts on his life, he is sure. Though this attack tonight had been rather different.

"Noct!" shouts Philologus as he throws open the chamber doors. His glasses are hanging precariously on the edge of his nose. "The crystal's been stolen!"

* * *

End Note: Let the adventure begin!


	2. Vispilio

A/N: Already this story has taken over my life. Only the second chapter and I am writing and editing and then revising like a madwoman. It changed so much I do apologize if you see a lot of misspellings. I was not focusing on that as much as I was trying to make this come out smoothly. Enjoy!

Vispilio is latin for "a thief by night, robber."

Chapter Two: Vispilio

A diversion. It was the simplest and most reliable way to get inside. They had known that he would be the only one that would have been alerted to their scheme and so they had sought to distract him with a small army. A small army they must have known he could easily defeat. Those men had been decoys all along. This makes him feel the simmering beginnings of suppressed anger. That had been a waste of life. For it said much to the motives and mind of the faceless enemy that he was now going to hunt. The retribution for such an act was irreprehensible and he would not let this pass without recompense. They had better run and hide. He was not going to show any restraint nor quarter when he found out who did this. It was a direct insult to him and to his kingdom and they had better hope that they could manage to kill him before he found them. Their deaths would not be quick.

Nihilsomno was not a city that changed with the rising and setting of the sun. No matter the time of day, there were always people traveling along the streets. It was a city that did not sleep. He thinks this has more to do with the city being just as afraid as he was, to sleep. It was a city that fought to keep the coming of nightmares that always came. His city, was also unused to seeing strangers within its realm. So, the visiting dignitaries had been something that they were all unaccustomed to seeing. The previous twelve peace conferences had all been held in other parts of their world. This, the thirteenth, had been the first to be held in Nihilsomno. It had been the first time, in ages, that outsiders had gained entrance within their walls. The entire city had been advised to expect such different presences this week. Which meant it would have been easier to get a small cavalry close to where he had been without anyone reporting it. That they even knew where he was going to be at that exact time strengthened his belief that someone in Nihilsomno had aided in the robbery. There was no way their plan would have succeeded otherwise.

It vexes him that they had not taken his warning about upping the security to the crystal during this week. They merely advised him that they would handle the situation and since he was the personal guard of the Crystal, there should be no troubles during the peace conference. The conference that he had not been to. He had never been to any of the peace conference previous. He had never been asked if he would have liked to attend at all. He has never been outside the city walls. For he was just a prince in name only. Carrying a title that did not make him any different than the people walking on the streets. Yet, everything that went wrong was somehow his fault. He knew exactly what the Concilium had been going to say before he had even stepped through the doors.

Durus had given him a nod, his scarred face trying to be reassuring, before he pushes open the heavy double doors. The light within the room was always so bright, it is almost blinding as your enter into the expansive chamber. Black marble lined the floor in complicated patterns with submissive statues that watched from above. One lone chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling who's light shined as the sun outside. Within the center of the room sat a long black table where all the councilmen sat and at the very end of it, at the head of the table, sat the head State Minister. Stern faced and aged, he has always made him feel inferior. It was he, Legatus, that had been chosen to rule in his deceased parents' stead until he was of age. A time that had seemed so long to him, but now seemed to be coming too soon.

A mentor he had been assigned to be for him, but a father figure he most definitely was not. There had never been a flicker of affection within the depths of those hardened eyes. Legatus had never been warm. He had never been kind. He had always been cold and he grew colder still as he had grown older. There was never any open mockery nor maliciousness but he used his words to cut into him whenever the occasion presented itself. From the extreme discontent that had lined the features of his face at that moment, he had known that the older man was not going to be kind with his words.

"Ah, your Majesty joins us," said Legatus and he had not even bothered to smile. He had not even bothered to stand in his presence but merely seemed content to glare at him from the head of the table.

The rest of the Concilium turn to regard him as he had fully entered the room. He walked until he was standing at the foot of the table before he turned to glare at the man closest to him and pointed stared at an empty chair. There had been no way that he was going to stand there as if he were on a persecution block. At first, the man had looked as if he was about to object to having to give him his seat but thought the better of it as he stood and moved the chair where Noctis had been standing. Though he may not have much power, he was still their Prince afterall. He had waited until the councilman was in another chair before turning to look at the head State Minister.

"Given the events of the last few hours, I believe pleasantries can be skipped today," he said as he sat stiffly among his country's most powerful men.

"Very well," answered Legatus as he leaned against the table and clasped his hands together.

"This is an outrage!" cried one of the councilmen at the table.

"This is absolutely unacceptable!" cried another.

"How could this have happened?"

How could you have let this happen? is the unasked question from around the table as they looked at him.

"As you know," he says slowly. "I was attacked last night at the temple of Etro while the robbery occurred. So I was a bit detained to act." He stops to glare at the ones who had spoken. "I would like to know how our security, which I had vehemently wanted to be upgraded, was breached."

"It was upgraded, as you commanded," said another with a scowl and indignant air.

"No. It was not," he answer with a scowl of his own.

"What is being done about the investigation?" cut in Legatus.

"Philologus is working on recovering the damaged video footage from within the vaults," he said as he looked around the table. He had looked at each face in turn. "I suspect that there is a traitor in our midst."

Whispers and scoffs erupted around the table.

"Heavy accusation, my Lord," responded Legatus. "What basis do you have for such a theory?"

"No hacker is that good and the thief obviously knew his way around."

"We need more than that to believe someone among us is capable of this sort of betrayal," stated another councilmen.

The surrounding whispered voices agreed with him.

"Regardless of your theories, you have no suspects, to speak of. Do you?" asked another.

"No," he answered as his jaw clenched.

"Anyone else have any suggestions?" asked Legatus.

Yet another time that his opinions were looked over, just like that. As he had looked around the room to see the rest of the Concilium speaking to each other but nobody said outright. Having a passive aggressive attitude had helped him thus far, yet he had been sorely tempted to drop the passive and move ahead to just the aggressive just then.

"Well," he said loud enough to gain their attentions again. "Once you figure out what course of action to take, do let me know." He got up from his chair and then had made for the door.

"Don't be so rash, your Majesty," came to the condescending tones of Legatus from behind him. "We are all just as worried as you over this."

As he had turned he made sure to change his face from the glare to an air of question over his shoulder at the men sitting at the table. "Perhaps instead of merely wasting the Concilium's time by sitting around and staring at each other of you, I must go for a more assertive approach."

"What would that be?" the question was asked in a snide tone.

"Actually looking for what has been stolen," he answered. It was a veiled insult but he knew that most of them did not catch it, but he was almost positive that Legatus did. Afterwards he had almost blown through the doors and exited the room, but had to contend with letting the door slam behind him. As he had quickly made his way back down the hall he added, "I do not know why I bother."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Durus as they walked together.

"That they will be the very ruin of my kingdom? Or that one of them obviously is the traitor?"

"Both" was the answer. "Which means that we will be more limited in our resources to find the Crystal."

"You would think that they would be more reasonable now," he said with a shake of his head. "It will be the three of us as it has always been."

"Yes, but this is a major crises that we are going to try and divert. Whoever has it, is not going to let it go without a fight."

He had nodded.

"We need to see, Phil."

Fifteen minutes later saw him behind Phil as his friend typed rigorously at the keyboard. Three monitors and a few towers were heavily at work simultaneously as he tried to figure out just what went wrong last night. Occasionally, he would flip and switch each screen to what he was working on and then back as he typed in a fragment of code here and a command there. Sometimes he astounded him with just how well his friend could multitask. He watches as Phil pauses to push his glasses closer to his face before he begins typing furiously again.

"How much longer do you think, before the footage will be viewable?" he asks.

"I can't say for sure," is the answer. "It was severely damaged."

"Why not just wipe it completely?" asks Durus.

"They must have been in a hurry," explains Phil as he looks at the voice frequencies. He shakes his head at something and starts typing some more. "They did not have the password to delete the files."

"But you think you can get something off the damaged memory?" he asks.

"Maybe a few frames," he said reluctantly.

"You can't play anything now?" asks Durus, as he leans over Phil's shoulder.

"Not right now," answers Phil as he types in a few more commands.

"Someone from the inside must have helped," he says as he stands stiffly behind his friends. "Someone not too high up that they did not have the deletion codes."

"That means it would be a longer list of suspects," says Phil. "So we have a traitor and a suicidal thief."

"Not a good combination," comments Durus with a shake of his head.

"With so many outsiders here for the conference, it will be harder to narrow down who it could have been," he says as he looks over the list of people who had been given access into the city. "But first, get me a list of everyone who has access to the video footage and not enough access to edit the files."

"I'm sending it to your phone now," answers Phil. He stops to push his glasses closer to his face before he starts punching in a few more buttons.

"Everyone has been quick to offer their condolences and denies concerning your assassination attempt."

"News travels fast," he comments absently, as he looks at the list on his phone.

"I wonder how many are going to find out about the crystal," comments Phil.

"We were quick to keep that under wraps," reassures Durus.

"No one can know," he states. The sheer amount of chaos that would result in anyone finding out would be crumbling. The peace conferences would have been a total waste. Every bounty hunter, scavenger and king would be scouring the lands for the crystal. It was hard enough to keep them out of Nihilsomno. Only this time, they had willingly let foreigners in, in a show of effort for peace. Whoever had it, had better be smart enough to keep it hidden. At least for now, for everyone's sake.

"Not even our guards know," says Phil. "I have old footage playing on loop for the guard on duty now."

"He does not know either?" he asks.

"Nobody knows but us and the Concilium," answers Durus.

"It is still only a matter of time before they inevitably will find out," he says.

"It doesn't look good, Noct," says Phil with a shake of his head.

"No, it does not," he agrees grimly. He thinks about the effects of this news coming out to the public. The wide spread panic would be difficult enough to control, let alone the amount of outsiders who would be eager to gain entry within the unprotected gates of the city. How would they protect themselves from such an invasion then? There would be nothing to stand in their way once the Crystal's power no longer provided for them.

"One thing at a time," says Durus as he looks at the grave expression on his face. "It's not time to panic yet."

"Yes, of course," he says with a shake of his own head to clear his dark thoughts.

"This would not be so difficult if the Concilium had listened to you about putting a trace mechanism on the Crystal itself," says Phil, his voice is laced with bitterness. Almost as much bitterness as he was feeling himself. The Concilium had scoffed at his proposal for such a thing, citing that nobody had ever been successful in retrieving the Crystal before. Besides, it was too expensive and their resources were limited. As if they had any troubles in either area. There was not a country on their planet that did not want to trade with them. The profits from their foreign trade was lucrative to say the least. Now, what would happen to it? All of their technology depended upon the power of the Crystal.

"It would not be the first time they have not listened to your suggestions and paid the price," comments Durus.

That was definitely true. This was the last straw. He would not let them get away with passing over his legitimate suggestions this time. This was their fault. Yet, it had not changed what he had heard from them anyway. He finds himself sighing in annoyance as he recounts earlier again.

"When are the visiting parties leaving?" asks Phil.

"This afternoon," he answers. "We are having a special lunch prepared to see them all off."

"They all leaving at the same time?" asks Durus.

"Yes."

"Then we need to act fast," says Phil. "If one of them did this, the crystal will be gone by the end of the day."

"The crystal cannot leave the city walls," he says, but they all knew that. It has never been proven that a crystal must remain within the vicinity of the region for it to be harnessed, but they had never tried to see otherwise. Considering all other Crystals had already faded, they could never take the chance. Now that it was a sure possibility, he fears what is to come. His city would eventually crumble. His dynasty overthrown. The kingdom would be powerless against the outside world.

He cannot let that happen.

"I am going into that chamber."

There were no three men more capable than them within Nihilsomno to break into the vault. Durus was the back up. Phil was the eyes and ears of the operation. He was the lead. The best way to figure out how a break in had been possible was to find out how they had gotten in, in the first place. Then, they would most likely be able to see who had been responsible. He has his suspicions already but he had not been foolish enough to voice them to the Concilium earlier.

"We do not have much time before the dignitaries are supposed to leave," reminds Phil in his ear piece.

"I know," he says as his right eye flashes red as he carefully follows along the edges of the door.

"How long do you think it took them to get in and out?"

"Less than five minutes," he gauges.

It had taken him less than ten to finish off those soldiers and it would have taken Phil less than five minutes to get to him. The vault was not far away from the temple and Phil had taken extra precautions on security without the knowledge of the Concilium at his bidding. He was very thankful that they had installed a small sensor beneath the crystal just in case anyone so much as lifted it off its platform, since they had not been allowed to put a physical trace on the Crystal itself. They would not have been alerted as quickly and he is sure that they would not have noticed before the dignitaries had left the city walls. He lets out a sigh as his eye turns to a more muted shade of red.

"No forced entry from outside."

"Do you want me to open the door?" asks Phil.

"Yes," he answers. "How are things outside, Durus?"

"Clear," is the gruff reply.

There is a loud click and a corresponding hiss as the door's locking mechanism is released before it opens up before him.

"Motion sensors on?"

"Yes."

"Going in," he says as he walks through the door. He easily bypasses the trip sensors and teleports to stand directly on top of the platform where the Crystal had resided. His eyes look up to the high ceiling. "They must have come down from the ceiling vents."

There were three ventilation shafts on the ceiling.

"Where do the three vents lead to?" he asks as he tries to calculate how he was going to get up there without the aid of his powers.

"Two lead to the large vent fans below you."

"The third?"

"Hold on a sec," is the reply. He can hear the clicking of quick typing. "A tunnel."

"That is it, then," he says as he reaches around his belt to pull out a portion of a metal cord. A quick search into one of the pouches on his belt reveals a small hook and he attaches it to the end of the cord. Swinging it rapidly over his head, he hurls it towards the ceiling. It catches a few inches from the vent opening and he gives it a testing tug before he starts climbing up.

"You really don't have to actually be down there, you know," points out Phil.

"There are safer ways," says Durus.

"It is the best way," he says as he continues to pull himself up. "How else am I going to get my workout in?" He smirks at their snickers and makes his way quickly to the top. Reaching over, he stops the cord from uncoiling again, before he moves his hands to the vent opening to peer at the hinges.. "It has been tampered with."

"Then that is definitely the point of entry," agrees Durus.

He pushes the panel easily and slides it into the ventilation shaft. Then after making sure that he has a good grip, he releases the hook of the cord and retracts it back into his belt. He dangles for a moment at the top before pulling his arms up to raise his legs into the opening. Hooking them over the entrance, he hoists his upper body into the small crawl space and gains entry.

"Simple enough," he states as he crawls forward to get his bearings.

"I have no visual on you now," states Phil.

"Remember to think aloud," urges Durus.

If he found his relationship with the Concilium to be too indifferent, it was too invasive when it came to his friends. He shakes his head with a laugh as he moves forward.

"Are the sensors invisible?"

"No, you should be running into your first one in a few feet," is the reply.

"Got it," he says as he continues moving forward. He does not see anything ahead but he uses some of the dust around him to throw ahead to see the outlines of the lasers. Carefully, he looks around the edges to see where the mechanism was attached to the pipeline. "These things are out of date. They could have easily been rerouted to cross along the wall."

"You want me to turn them off or are you going to go through the trouble?"

He wants to, so he can see just how long it must have taken the thief to pass but he is ever mindful of the time. "No, we have to skip this step for when we have more time."

"All right, you should be clear until you get to the end, Noct," says Phil.

"How much further?"

"About a hundred feet ahead."

"Got it," he answers as he tries as quickly as he can to crawl towards the other end.

"So, meet anyone interesting last night?" asks Phil conversationally as they wait for him to reach the end.

"Interesting as in, you mean a girl?" he asks as he keeps moving forward.

"Nothing else would be considered interesting," states Durus and he almost laughs at that.

"There were many ladies in attendance last night," he says evasively.

"Nice try," says Phil.

He smirks as he makes his way closer to the gated entryway. There is already a strong, warm breeze blowing into the vents as he continues on. He is just about there when his hands make a crunching sound as he crawls closer. The sound makes him stop as he raises his hand to his face, his red eye flashing red.

"What is it?" asks Durus.

He rubs his hands together and he hears the crackling sound again.

"The subway is the entrance?" he asks as he recognizes the sounds. It could not be.

"Only the busiest tunnel," comments Durus.

"Where the trains are constantly passing. Right along the middle of the tunnel."

"Hard entry," says Durus. "The window between trains is too short and the passage way is too narrow to walk towards it."

"Not really," he says as he feels his jaw tighten. He kicks open the gate to see it crashing against a passing train and fly off its hinges from the impact. "Not if you can teleport from a passing train to the entry way."

He moves the short distance from the opening and sticks his head out in time to see the end of the train that had just passed him. There is a sudden cry of a horn as another is about to hit him. He squints his eyes against the light and teleports directly into the train as it speeds past where he had just been.

"Wait a minute," says Phil. "Are you saying...?"

"Only one like me would have been able to do it."

"You've met another that can see the Light?" asks Durus.

The flash of Stella as she had turned to smile at him the night before flies through his mind and he feels himself grow cold.

"Yes, I have."

* * *

End Note: You will notice that the friends' names have changed and we're missing one. The names have been changed because they were not official to begin with. It also helps to differentiate the way they are in Noctum/Eclipse to how they are here. I have a banner for this fic in my profile and any other notes I may have will be posted daily there. Thank you for reading!


	3. Dubium

A/N: This one is definitely challenging to write and it's been very hard not to repeat what happened in Noctum. This fic came out of no where and there is no telling where it will go. Thank you to everyone that has reviewed and given this fic a chance.

Dubium is latin for "doubt, hesitation."

_**Chapter Three: Dubium**_

Fate had always been a fickle mistress. She has never been accommodating nor has she ever been constant. His life had been a streak of tragedy and resentment. Though there had been glimpses of contentment but they were few and far between. Fate, it seemed, liked him dark. She never failed to make him feel anything but miserable, constantly. In this case though, perhaps it was more than fate that the only person he has ever met that could see the light would be the one that would seek to start a war with him. For a war was inevitable now. Perhaps it was not fate at all, but irony, that he should be thanking for this trial. He does not understand this feeling that runs through his veins at the thought that it was Stella that had been the one to steal the Crystal. She was not a lover. She was not a friend. She was not even an acquaintance. They were nothing to each other and yet, he felt betrayed. Betrayed in a way that only someone close to him could stab. It did not make any sense. He should not feel this way.

It then makes him wonder just how things would have progressed with Stella had it been otherwise. Had she not taken something so essentially precious to him. Her invitation to Tenebrae had been tempting. Oh, so tempting. He had no doubts that even the Concilium would have agreed to the match and would have encouraged him to take her up on her offer to host him on his visit. Her country was the closest to their borders and their biggest rival in trade and power. A match would have been advantageous for both sides. It would have only made sense that they forge a marriage alliance to ensure peace amongst their nations. Things would have been perfect in a political and financial sense, on the surface at least. In the end though, she would have become like every other woman he had known. He would have grown tired of her eventually. Tired of the mundane life that they would have had together. True, there had been an instant and strong attraction last night. She had caught his attention like no woman had been able to. Yet, attraction could and most likely would, eventually die as the years passed. It could last longer considering their shared powers but it would have passed. It would not have been enough for him in the end.

What would have been enough? He cannot rightly come to a formidable conclusion. He was not a wayward man. He would have honored their marriage vows, if a marriage had been proposed. It would not have been the temptation of another woman that would have taken him away from her. Such a thing would be demeaning to him and to her and he did believe in assigning dignity to whoever would become his wife. It would have been his own world and not someone, that he would have went to. A world he would not have let her enter. A world he would have kept from her. That had been how he would have perceived her. Too bright and too full of light to be mingled with the blackness that his world consisted of. The world that very few were allowed to see, let alone enter.

How did he perceive her now? As his blue eyes watch her closely from where he was seated at the head of the table, he cannot say either. What he can say is that it has changed. His first impressions had been compelled interest. Now, he had an intense interest. Through one swift move, his perception of her had been altered. It looked as if he would have been inaccurate about her being too bright for his world. By her act of thievery, she had thrown herself at the mercy of his darkness. She has already planted herself in too deep where he had never thought she would belong. Despite feeling betrayed, he cannot help but feel even more interested in every graceful move that she made and it was not in the way of observing the moves of an enemy either. From the charming and charismatic smile on her face to the completely feminine and entrancing movements of her body, she was utterly captivating. It did things to him, to note that she was not even trying to be such. That everything, as it had been the night before, was natural and instinctive. Nothing was at all manipulative nor deceitful in her countenance. She was more dangerous than he was. This, he found to be as irresistible as most men would find a buxom beauty. He was drawn to her even more now than he had been the night before.

Though he tries to be discreet, it would have been impossible for her not to notice how intensely he was regarding her. There were no shy glances away when he caught her eye. He does not even bother to pay any attention to the rest of the party sitting around him. Their circumstances did not allow such things. Besides, he was a man and she was a lovely woman. He did not particularly care that he was inadvertently being obvious. Not when she had taken something of extreme value to him. Not when she had taken the most irreplaceable thing that he and his people had. Not when only she could hold his interest. To him, she is more interesting to stare at than the women vainly attempting to catch his attention while they ate. He finds their attempts at ensnaring and conquering him with their feminine wiles to be more of a repellent than anything else. Then there she was, not even trying to gain his attention and she had it so completely. It made him want to conquer her.

He is not sure what he expects whenever she does catch him watching her, but he had certainly not expected her to smile warmly at him in response. He is sure that the look on his face was not at all pleasant. If there were any way to describe it, it would have been intense. While that could be open to interpretation, for it was entirely upon the perspective of the person watching him, but he does not care about what the they think. Nor does he care what kinds of conclusions they were for forming upon the scene unfolding before them. He is only aware of what _he_ is thinking as he looks upon her. Her friendly smiles did nothing to quell his suspicions of her guilt. What did change was that he felt something deep inside himself whenever she did. In her smile was something secret that he wished to discover, though he strongly suspects he knows what that secret already is. However it did not seem to entirely match what he suspected. It was neither smug nor triumphant but curious. Most curious of all, is that eventually her smile begins to wane. It wanes until her face turns guilty. A good thief would not look guilty. Thieves have no consciences or else they would not be very good at what they do. The guilt, however, is not enough to stop her from looking back to stare him in the eye. He does not know what to make of this at all.

The meal passes and he is still staring at her as everyone else is standing up to make ready to leave. He does not really pay attention to the parting words of Legatus but acknowledges that the words are more than adequate. He says his own words of regard that they have had him rehearse before hand. It is only after he has finished his carefully worded speech that his eyes finally leave Stella to look at Legatus. There he finds muted interest in those hard eyes as they stare back at his and he knows that he has, indeed, been very obvious in his observations of Stella during lunch. He answers the silent question with a flittering glance at everyone else at the table. It is almost a moment to savor as he sees the thinly veiled disappointment on the ladies' faces as they try to smile their best smiles at him. He has made Stella enemies with his attentions and from the look on her face, he knows that she knows this too. This almost makes him want to smile. Then, without another glance at her, he moves from the table and makes to exit the doors. He makes sure to walk with slow and confident strides and waits. He does not have to wait long.

"Prince Noctis!" he hears cried behind him as he had anticipated and he smirks to himself.

He stops walking and turns around to see her making her way towards him.

"I did say you could call me, Noct?" he asks teasingly as he takes in her face again. It is so much more lovely up close.

"I appreciate that," she answers. "I just wanted to..." She stops as if she does not quite know how to proceed.

"Princess," he says in the same playful tone he had used the night before, but she would have been deaf to miss the underlying warning in it as well. "I believe you have something of mine."

Fear caused the blood to drain from one's face. The kind of fearful guilt that she should have felt at getting caught should have been such. Yet that was not the kind of guilt that had risen in her features at his accusation. The blood had not drain. It had rushed up as her face turned a most fetching shade of red. He does not know whether to frown or smile at the opposite reaction.

"I really did not think you would notice," she answers and it is the first time her eyes cannot meet his.

"What would have given you the impression that I would not have noticed?" he asks and he knows he has an angry frown on his face now.

She misses how angry his frown is because she still cannot meet his eyes.

"Well, I just thought that since it had been a very small thing and you must have plenty more of them..."

"Plenty more?" he asks and now his frown is replaced with a confused expression.

"Yes," she says as she finally looks back at him. "I am sure you have hundreds made for you."

Hundreds?

"I apologize," he says as he shakes his head. "What exactly have you taken?"

She looks up at him with her own frown.

"You, left your family crested handkerchief on the table last night," she explains. "I saw it there and I know it was wrong but I wanted to have something."

"You wanted something that belonged to me?" he asks and his eyebrow rises at that.

Impossibly, her blush deeps as she nods which makes him swell in pride despite everything.

"I had not been lying last night when I said that I felt like the light was giving me something by letting me talk to you," she says. "I wanted a reminder to tell me that it had all been real."

He does not feel the blood run to his face nor run from his face at her confession. It feels as if his blood has stopped running all together. All he can do is stand there and witness the sincerity in her voice and in her face. He feels a lightness in his heart that he has never felt before.

"You only needed to ask," he finds himself saying softly.

"I needed to leave so suddenly last night," she says as she diverts her gaze again. "I did not have the chance."

It reminds him of what he should be feeling, suspicious and indignant.

"What compelled you to leave so quickly?" he asks as he leans in closer to her.

She does not seem to notice how menacing his presence has turned as she looks away once more.

"My father had been indisposed last night and I had to check back with him in Tenebrae," she answers.

This throws him off again.

"I was not aware that your father was not feeling well," he comments. They did always forget to inform him of these changes.

"He was the reason I had to come at all," she explains. "I had not planned on actually coming, but my father had taken ill again and my cousin is not of a high enough station to have represented our country at the conference."

"Your cousin?" he finds himself asking. He can vaguely remember the mention of a cousin.

"Yes," she answers as she looks behind her and he concludes it is an effort to see if she could catch a glimpse of the aforementioned cousin. "He must have gone. I could bet money on the fact that he must have run after some lady."

"A womanizer?" he asks with a smirk.

"Very much so," she says with an indulgent smile. "I am sorry that I did not ask you for permission to take what was yours. I am not in the custom of taking things that do not belong to me."

He can almost believe her. If he had not known better.

"I would like to reissue the invitation as last night," she says. "You should come to Tenebrae sometime."

"I might be inclined to except your invitation, Stella," he answers.

The look of genuine delight on her face does funny things to him that he does not understand. It should have made her afraid of this, but it had not and it should not have made him feel the way he did.

"Really?" she asks as her face lights up. "I do hope it will be soon."

"Would you care to extend your trip a little longer so that we can work out the details?" he asks.

This is when she hesitates and his suspicions rise yet again.

"I really must be hurrying on home," she says.

"I must insist," he says as he smiles at her. "It is only a day more that I ask."

He can see her warring inside herself as she thinks this over. A few feet away, he can see a few of the visiting daughters watching them and whispering amongst themselves.

"Best hurry," he teases her with a smirk as he motions with a tilt of his head to the group of women behind her. "We have an audience."

"Oh," she says as she looks back at them a moment before turning to face him again.

There is yet another curious feeling coursing through him when disappointment crosses her eyes.

"Are you courting one of the princesses?"

"I beg your pardon? No," he says too quickly for it to sound smooth. He is almost appalled that she would even think so.

She reacts with a smirk that could match his own and it makes him return it.

"Does this mean that you are trying to court me?" she asks. Her tone is the playful one from the night before.

He raises an eyebrow at her question and pauses for effect, before he replies.

"I do not make it a habit to invite random princesses to stay a night."

It is a loaded statement. One that she could take many ways. Yet instead of a blushing or a bashful look, like any of the other ladies certainly would have, she gives him a serious nod. Which meant that she had not taken it the diplomatic way instead of the lascivious way that any of the other ones would have. The difference makes him wish she had, because now he was completely magnetized to her.

"I must ask my father how he fairs and then I can give you a proper answer."

"Excellent," he answers with a look that could be nothing else but smug. He reaches up to brush her hair behind her shoulder. "I will speak to Lord Legatus about my trip and give you a proper answer then as well."

"Than I shall see you later?" she asks as she smiles another one of those charming smiles that throws his emotions into chaos.

"Yes," he responds with as much arrogance as he can muster.

The dangerous and disarming smile does not leave her face as she backs away from him. She passes right by the small group of ladies staring daggers at her without a glance in their direction. All who had been paying rapt attention to their conversation even though they had tried to put a show of talking to each other. He does not give them much notice either as he makes his way to his rooms in the opposite direction. If any one of them called him, he did not show that he had heard and continued on his way until he turned the corner and was out of their sight.

"Did you catch all that?" he asks.

"I am not sure how she looked when you two were speaking, but she sounded believable," comments Durus through his earpiece.

"She is either an incredibly gifted actress or we're looking at the wrong person," adds Phil.

"She is not completely innocent," he states and he does not mean it as an insult. If anything, it sounds like it was said in admiration rather than in resentment.

"I like her," concludes Phil.

"So do I," agrees Durus.

He does not reply out loud but he finds he likes her too. He finds he more than likes her.

"Too bad she's the enemy," says Durus.

"Of all the countries in the world, why did it have to be Tenebrea?" Phil laments sarcastically.

"Because they are our biggest rival," he answers.

"They stand to profit the most with our downfall," agrees Durus.

"Which means that we must tread carefully," he says as he reaches the hallway of his rooms.

"She was the one you were trying to be vague about, wasn't she?" asks Phil and he can just see the smirk on his friend's face.

"Figures that you'd be attracted to the that would be the most complicated to be with," says Durus.

He rolls his eyes at their comments as he reaches his rooms and carefully closes the door behind him. His servant is already waiting for him with a change of his street clothes. He gives him a nod of acknowledgment before he makes to take off his blazer to begin changing.

"Would you tell Lord Legatus that I wish to speak with him?" he requests.

The man bows before quickly leaving him to finish up by himself. He waits until he is certain that his servant has left before he speaks again.

"How is the signal for the transmitter?" he asks as he starts to unbutton his dress shirt.

"Signal is good," answers Phil.

"Where did you put it?" asks Durus.

"I put it on her shoulder as I made to move her hair," he says as he pulls a tee shirt over his head.

"Smooth," comments Durus and he can almost see his friend's nod of approval through the earpiece.

He can hear the sounds of Phil as he typed rapidly on the keyboard.

"Nothing yet?"

"She's walking right now," says Phil.

"Any progress on the video footage?"

"It's about 20% done but that was just for the initial diagnostic tests. I'm not sure how much longer it'll take," answers Phil.

"You are losing your touch," he mocks.

"Must be," is the dry answer. Trust him not to understand his joke. "It would be going a lot faster if I could use the main server."

He is just finishing with the clip of his belt when he hears an arrogant knock at the door of his chambers.

"Legatus is here," he says as he slowly makes his way to the door.

He pauses a moment to collect himself before he turns the handle and opens the door.

"Lord Legatus," he says as he moves aside to allow the older man entry.

"I came as soon as your man told me you wished to speak with me," says the stern, deep voice of his elder.

"Yes, there was a matter I wished to discuss with you," he says.

"Does this have something to do with the Princess of Tenebrae?" Legatus asks as he gives him an assessing look.

"It does actually," he says.

"She is a very fine princess," Legatus remarks as he makes his way to one of the windows.

"I have invited her to stay an extra night," he says.

"Oh?" asks Legatus as he turns to give him an amused look now.

"To discuss my visit to Tenebrae," he finishes. "She has invited me to go."

He is not sure what he had expected the older man's reaction would have been to this news but the look of staunch refusal had not been it.

"I do not think a trip will be possible," Legatus says and his voice is even deeper than usual.

"What do you mean?'

"I mean that your presence is required here. Not visiting other countries when you should be ruling."

"You consider me to be ruling now?" he asks and he does not even try to hide how snide the question is asked.

"We have still not recovered the Crystal," explains Legatus. "What would the people think if you were to disappear as well?"

"I am doing this for my people," he answers.

"Chasing after a princess so soon after such a loss is not helping your people."

"How so?" he asks. It was beneficial, especially with the Crystal missing.

"You cannot leave the city, your Majesty," says Legatus and it sounds more like a command than a suggestion.

He resents the tone but he cannot go against it. Not yet.

"Would it not be beneficial in all avenues if I pursued Princess Stella?" he argues.

"It is most beneficial that you stay here," Legatus all but growls. "Especially since we have not found the Crystal."

He squints at the menacing look on the older man's face. The look does not frighten him but it does make him wary. Why such vehemence for him to stay when they had always made it a point to demean his ideas and his decisions? Why could the older man not see that this was good for them all? He would have thought that they would welcome a chance to be rid of him. It did not make any sense what so ever. He looks at Legatus with thinly veiled distrust for a second before he replaces it with his customary indifferent demeanor.

"If that is the will of the Concilium," he says, converting back to his passivity.

"It is," presses Legatus.

"How shall I explain to Princess Stella of my decline?"

"Unexpected obstacles have come up and you are being detained," the older man suggests, with relief splashed across his stern face. "Perhaps she could stay longer than a day."

"She claims her father does not fair well and she must return quickly."

"The King of Tenebrae's health has been failing for some time, but I am sure even he would see the benefit of her extending her stay."

"Then my excuse for being detained would be exposed for the lie that it is."

"Let me handle that," says Legatus.

"Very well," he answers. "I will go to her directly."

"Then I must take my leave," Legatus responds as he makes for the door. He stops just at the frame and turns to look at him. "I understand your curiosity and eagerness to see the world outside these walls, but it is your duty to remain when your people are in need."

He does not understand the other man's meaning at all but he nods anyway.

Legatus nods to him once more before departing from his rooms.

"Do you get the feeling he might be involved with this?" asks Phil.

"None of this makes any sense," he says shaking his head.

"Now I don't know who to be pointing fingers at," comments Durus.

He feels the same way. "Do you have anything from Stella yet?"

"I am going to play back her last conversation for you," says Phil.

"All right."

He hears a moment of static before he hears a man's voice.

"You invited him to come here?" the question is asked in disbelief and disapproval.

"Yes, I did," responded Stella, her tone determined.

"It is dangerous for him to come. I have told you that you should not form an attachment to him."

"Why can I not know him?" she asked.

"Why would you want to be associated with the leader of such a selfish race?"

"Noctis does not seem like the rest."

"He is a product of his environment and his environment does not tolerate being generous."

He agrees with that statement. He was, indeed, a product of his environment. It is the mention of selfishness that he resents.

"But they had the peace conference here and it was a success. I am sure…"

"What of your mission? Have you completed it?"

There is a sigh from Stella and a long pause before she quietly replied. "Yes."

"Very good, my daughter. I will let you stay another day but you must be prepared."

"I will be," she answered.

"When you return we shall discuss your fraternization with Prince Noctis."

"Yes, father," she replied petulantly and the following click as she hung up the phone ran hollow through his ear.

"At least you can find comfort in the fact that she really does like you," points out Phil.

It was very uncharacteristic for Phil to try and point out the good news in things. Phil was like him. Always looking at the cynical side of things. He does not think about that now because his mind is reeling from listening to Stella's conversation with her father.

"I do not find any consolation in that," he says and he can feel how cold his voice sounded. There is that irrational feeling of betrayal again. Stella's betrayal should not cut him this deeply. They were nothing to each other. Nothing and yet the same and he has never met anyone that was the same as him. Someone who was capable of doing the same things that he could.

Why did it have to be her?

"You should. It means she is conflicted," responds Phil.

"You think I should work that to my advantage?" he asks.

"It's just an observation," comments Phil.

"It's too bad really," comments Durus.

"Why?"

"I really did like her and a part of me still does."

He tries not to even linger on the thought that he feels that way too.

"The statements were both vague and incriminating all at once," he says. "But the physical evidence is damning."

"What are you going to do, Noct?" asks Durus.

He is about to answer when there is a sudden knock on his door.

"You think it's Legatus?" asks Phil.

"Already?" asks Durus.

"Unlikely," he agrees. He is not expecting company and the knock did not sound familiar. He opens the door anyway and had he not been as trained as he was in how to school his expression, he is sure he would have gaped in surprise. "Stella."

"May I come in?" she asks calmly. The look on her face gives him pause.

"Of course," he says as he moves aside though he does not move entirely out of the way as she walks past him.

"I know this is very untoward, but I had to speak to you alone and in private."

"I was just about to…"

She interrupts him by holding up the mic that he had placed on her shoulder earlier.

"Why did you put this on me?" she asks.

He blinks at the object in her hand before looking down into her eyes.

"What makes you think it was me?" he asks and he keeps his voice neutral. He reaches over and takes the device from her fingers.

"I found it where you touched me earlier," she answers bluntly.

He makes a show of looking at it curiously.

"Perhaps it was coincidence," he suggests. "The dining hall was full of people."

"When you approached me earlier about taking something that was yours, you had not been thinking about your handkerchief. You were thinking about something else," she says as she ignores his half baked excuse. "Whatever else that was, must have been highly valuable for you to pull a trick like this."

"Are you trying to tell me that you are innocent?" he asks and he does not even bother to deny the accusation. He takes a step closer to her.

"This was a complete violation of privacy…" she says, but he is speaking too.

"Which is null and void when you…"

"Not to mention completely unethical…"

"What is unethical is you taking something that belongs to me."

"I have already apologized for taking your handkerchief," she argues as she steps closer to him as he is to her. "If you want it back so…"

"I am not talking about a bit of cloth," he says as they faces are mere inches a part.

She frowns up at him. "Then what are you talking about?"

"Are you really going to deny your involvement in..."

He is cut off by another knock on the door. A groan of frustration threatens to escape his lips as he's forced to divert his attention from Stella.

"My chambers are suddenly a very popular destination," he says in exasperation. "Come in."

"Stell, are you okay?" comes a voice he has not heard before, as the door creaks open.

He turns to frown at the stranger in his doorway. "And you might be?"

"Lord Noctis, this is the cousin that I was telling you about," says Stella but she sounds just as frustrated as he was to have been interrupted. "This is Calamus."

"Cal, if you please," the man says with an easy grin. He swings a rifle in his hand before laying it to rest upon his shoulder.

"Were you trying to protect your cousin's virtue?" he asks with a nod toward the rifle.

"This? Nah," Cal answers as he tapped the gun against his shoulder. "I always have it with me. Why? Does it threaten you?"

"Cal..." warns Stella.

"Not at all."

"I could shoot you in the back," tests Cal with a glean in his eye.

"You can try," he says with an indifferent shrug. He turns his eyes back to Stella and is about to resume their conversation. His mouth even opens to repeat what he had been saying when a loud bang fills the room, accompanied by the resounding ting as the round bounces right off one of his swords. Blue eyes do not turn red as he turns to regard Cal. The smoke is still escaping the barrel and he smirks at the look on the other man's face. "Satisfied?"

"Cal! I can't believe you just shot at him!" cries Stella as she puts herself between her cousin and himself.

Her actions are late in coming but he finds it quite endearing that she would want to protect him.

"You can't even do that, Stell!" shouts Cal with a grin on his face. "That was awesome!"

"What do you think you were doing?" Stella cries again as she makes to strike her cousin.

"I did say he could try," he says.

He watches in amusement as her back stiffens before she turns to face him.

"You, are not going to call your guards?" she asks.

It boggles his mind that she should be afraid that he would seek retribution for her cousin when she had done something far worse.

He shrugs before looking Cal straight in the eyes for emphasis. "But the next time you try, I get to retaliate."

"No worries," Cal responds. "All I needed was the once."

He nods. Then he turns back to Stella. "Now..."

"Noct!" he hears Durus shout right before he comes bounding into the room. He does not even stop to assess the situation before he takes a swing at the blond headed stranger. Durus' fist catches Cal in the jaw causing his body to be propelled backwards. He lands on an antique table, which collapses under his weight.

**TBC**


	4. Lorica

A/N: I'm glad everyone is enjoying this one! All kinds of tensions mount but we have our band of boys together.

Lorica is Latin for "Knight's service."

_**Chapter Four: Lorica**_

There is a certain amount of comedy in this situation. An ironic sort of comedy. Which puts further argument that it was Irony that was to blame for this. Or maybe Fate was trying to be ironic. He does not think he has ever had these many people in his rooms at once before. There have definitely not been these many interruptions. He had been enjoying his little interactions with Stella a moment ago. Perhaps a little too well because he belatedly realized that he had been standing closer to her than was considered polite. They had been too caught up in the heat of the exchange to notice as it was happening. The cautious part of him is glad that it was interrupted by Cal. It saved him from what would have happened if he and Stella had continued. He had begun to feel a strange impulse to grab her and he does not want to think about what he would have done after that. His impulses were becoming increasingly erratic and he was quickly losing control of himself. This was escalating too quickly. Too quickly with too much distraction. His usually astute mind was having trouble catching up to stop these urges from taking over him.

As he watches Cal crush a very old antique table, one that would have been considered a priceless heirloom, as he falls on top of it, he thinks it is indeed almost comical. Comical in the ironic, humorousless sort of way. One moment about to give into his urges and the next, witnessing a brawl inside his rooms. The splinters fly and he is glad that Stella is standing on the other side of him so she does not come to harm. He senses her alarm and unease as Cal makes to get back up while Durus moves forward to lay another blow.

"Durus. Stop!" he orders.

His friend holds his blow and he can actually feel Stella relax as Durus lowers his hand.

"Dagnabbit you pack a punch!" cries Cal as he rubs his jaw. "You almost broke it."

"That's what you get for trying to shoot Lord Noctis!"

"Noct, are you okay?" asks Phil from the doorway. His glasses are slightly crooked upon his nose from his haste to get to him. He almost wants to smile at the annoyed look on his friend's face.

"I am fine," he says with a nod.

"What was that gunshot from?" asks Phil as he steps further inside. He pokes his head back out the door and shouts to the other servants that all was well before he closes the door behind him.

"Just a test!" cries Cal as he moves his lower jaw around experimentally. "I wasn't trying to kill him."

"You couldn't have anyway," remarks Durus.

"Then why did you attack me?"

"Reflex," shrugs Durus in reply.

"Well, now that all the key players are here," says Noctis as Cal brushes off the wooden debris of the table from his clothes. "Stella, Calamus, these are my closest companions. Philologus and Durus."

"Phil."

"Cal."

"Good to meet you," answers Phil as he adjusts his glasses.

Durus merely grumbles.

"You look like you're the brain of this operation," Cal says looking at Phil.

"Noct is the brain," corrects Phil. "I just make sure it happens."

"And you must be the bodyguard," Cal says to Durus, as he rubs his jaw again.

"Try something like that again and I'll do more than tap you," warns Durus, showing him a fist for good measure.

"Before you came barging in here, I was just telling Noctis that I only needed to do it once," retorts Cal. "See, Stella here can't do anything like tha…"

"Cal!" cries Stella, cutting him off.

The blush that appears on her face at her cousin's words is absolutely charming.

"Can any one of you explain why you bugged my beaut of a cousin here?" asks Cal.

All their faces turn to his for the answer.

"We have reason to believe you were involved with a robbery that took place last night," he says as he returns his gaze to Stella.

"Really?" asks Cal as he turns to Stella. "What'd you take, Stell?"

"What robbery?" asks Stella, ignoring her cousin.

"That is confidential," he states. "Return it or pay the consequences of taking such a valuable piece."

"I do not even know what item you are talking about," she argues with a frown at him.

"I think you do, Stella," he says as he leans in closer to her face again. "We have evidence near the scene."

"What sort of evidence?" she asks.

"Fragments of crystal," he answers, watching her reaction carefully.

She shakes her head in denial. "No, that could be from someone else."

"You are the only one who has the power," he says, then he looks up at Cal. "Unless you can see the light."

"Can't say that I can," answers Cal as he swings his rifle once more. "I wouldn't need this if I did." He taps the rifle against his shoulder to emphasize his point.

"How do I know that it was not you who did it and are merely trying to frame me?" asks Stella as he gives him a scrutinizing look.

"Noct was attacked when it happened," answers Phil.

"A diversion?" asks Cal. "Smart."

"What time did this happen?" Stella asks them.

"Around 2am," answers Durus.

"They attacked you at the castle that late?" asks Cal in disbelief. "Didn't anyone notice?"

"The temple of Etro," he corrects. "I was not at the castle."

"You were there at two in the morning?" gapes Cal. "Don't you sleep."

"Not particularly," he replies.

"When did you discover that the item was missing?" the question is from Stella.

"We had a trip sensor for whenever the item was lifted," explains Phil. "I alerted Noct right away."

"So you weren't sleeping either?" cries Cal. "Bunch of night owls and what were you doing Scarface? Were you up too?"

Durus merely shrugs in reply.

Cal makes a disbelieving sound. "Can't be any use to anyone after midnight. I gotta get my shut eye."

"It must be nice," he says, without any sarcasm in his voice. "To sleep peacefully would be a merciful gift to have."

"Why won't you tell us what you think I stole?" asks Stella as she steers the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"There is no need to," he answers. "Just give it back to me, Stella."

"The only thing I have that is yours, in my possession is the handkerchief. Like I have already confessed."

"I do not believe you," he says as he steps even closer to her.

He stares right into her eyes and she stares right back into his. She does not budge but she is affected by his stare. He can feel her heart start to beat faster. It causes a reaction in him in response. A reaction that is almost a need.

"Can I have a moment alone with Stella?" he asks the other three in the room, but he does not take his eyes away from hers.

"Why? Do you want to make out?"

"Cal!" exclaims Stella as she turns to glare at her cousin.

He turns his head to look at Cal with a smirk.

"We'll be outside," says Phil as he makes for the door.

Durus follows silently right behind Phil.

"I would bring your cousin no harm," he reassures Cal.

"I know you won't," Cal says confidently, before he turns around and follows the other two out of the door.

He waits until the door is closed before he focuses all his attention back onto Stella. Only to see that she had moved to stand near his window and was staring out into the city. His city bathed in daylight. It was so much better in twilight. Her though, he could not decide which light suited her best. For she looked fetching in both.

"I should be furious with you," she says with her arms before her chest. She does not turn to look at him as she speaks. There is a little bit of disappointment in her voice in the statement. "Listening in on my conversations. Invading my privacy."

"You are not furious then?" he asks as he walks up behind her.

"A little annoyed, but not furious," she sighs with a shake of her head. "It looks like old grudges die hard. Tenebrae and Nihilsomno will never be able to completely trust each other it seems." She lets out another sigh. "Maybe it is disappointment that I feel."

"What did you expect to happen?" he asks. He is close enough to her now that he can take in the fragrance of her hair.

"That maybe we could be friends," she says in a meek voice.

"Friends?" he asks and it comes out harsh in his surprise. The thought of their relationship remaining strictly platonic displeases him immensely. They could never remain friends. Not when she made him feel the things that she did. "I do not need any friends."

She turns around to look up at him then. It does not seem to bother her just how unethically close he is. She lets her arms fall down to her sides. "Then what would we have been? Enemies?"

"We were not enemies last night," he reminds her. No, there had been promise the night before. Now…

"No, we were not. But we are not what we were last night either," she answers. It is as if she knew his current thoughts.

"Why are you not furious about my trick?" he asks as he leans in closer. They are not touching but he can feel her warmth against his torso. His eyes are completely trained on her lips. He watches intently as they move to answer him.

"Maybe I like that I have your attention," she replies in a whisper as she tilts her head up just a little bit in invitation. Her chest rises and falls so quickly that it almost causes their chests to touch.

What was it about this woman that had him feeling these all consuming impulses? There is nothing else but to give in. He leans into her to close the distance. His lips are just about to touch hers when he feels it. It is unlike anything he has ever felt or heard before. It feels like a scream, shouted right into his very soul. His entire body seems to shudder as the magnitude of it causes him to stagger away from Stella.

"What is it?" she asks stepping towards him in alarm.

"It is calling to me," he says weakly. He feels the need to clutch his head against the ringing in his ears. He needs to go. They were taking the Crystal outside the city! "Phil!"

"What?" Phil shouts in surprise as he comes rushing back into the room.

"The delegates are not scheduled to leave yet. Who has permission to leave the city right now?"

Phil blinks at him for half a second before he realizes his meaning. He whips out his mini laptop and starts typing furiously without a word.

"There is a freight truck and two airships scheduled to leave in ten minutes."

"You check the truck," he instructs. "I shall go to the airfield."

"I'm going with you guys," says Cal.

"We don't need your kind coming with us," growls Durus distrustfully.

"Not your decision," says Cal.

"Fine, Cal can go with you," says Noctis.

Phil nods to him before the three of them race out into the hall.

"I am with you," Stella tells him.

He wants to refuse her but can see the determined look on her face and he has no time to argue.

"Fine," he says. He walks to his window and opens the pane. "Come."

He jumps out of the opening and teleports safely on the ground below. Rising to stand straight, he looks up just in time to see Stella land safely beside him.

"That was a test," she says cocking her eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he admits easily. "Let us get going."

She follows him as he begins to run towards the garage.

"A car is not going to be fast enough," she says.

"We are not going to be taking a car," he answers.

They enter the garage together and as soon as she sees where he is heading she makes a hum of appreciation.

"What have you named it?" she asks, taking a moment to admire the body of his bike.

"His name is Acerbus," he answers before he hops onto the seat. He reaches over and hands her his spare helmet before moving to pull on his own.

"He is beautiful," she says appreciatively. She does not even hesitate as she lifts her leg to swing over the seat to sit snuggly behind him. All while she easily slips the helmet on.

"We will be going quite fast," he warns her through the synced mics inside their helmets.

"Burn some rubber," she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly.

He smirks at her as he revs up the engine and takes off down the road. It is not long before he is bounding towards the highway at break neck speed. It is not yet rush hour in Nihilsomno but there are an unusual amount of cars on the road at that moment. Traffic, consisting of would be spectators, trying to witness the departure of the delegates on the airfield. The very one he was trying to get too so quickly. He has no choice but to proceed aggressively. He starts swerving expertly through small gaps between cars and skidding through loops in traffic easily. Stella's grip around his waist remains constant and confident, not afraid or nervous as he would have expected. Instead he felt her lean in closer to peer over his shoulder as they gained speed.

"Push it!" he hears her scream. "We only have five minutes."

He responds by jetting forward and moving anything that happened to be out of the way with his powers. Two minutes later they can see the airfield in sight. Without taking any time to go around, he uses a small car as a ramp and flies over the fence. To avoid the inevitable jarring bounce of their landing he angles them in order to land to a skidding halt on one end of the runway.

"One has already taken off," she says as she points to the one that had just lifted off.

The second was making its way down the runway in front of them. He does not even stop to think about what he is going to do before he is racing to catch up to it. On approach, he spies the hydraulics of the cargo bay door and his blue eyes turn red. His right eye flashes red behind the visor of his helmet before two daggers slice through the air and run cleanly through the pipes. He swerves Acerbus just in time to narrowly avoid being crushed under the cargo bay doors as they crash down and drag along the runway pavement. The plane start to sputter before the wing slants flap down to come to a sudden stop.

He is going too fast and the plane is decelerating too quickly for him to dodge it so he pops the clutch and does a wheelie. Catching his front wheel on the door, he pushes Acerbus forward and jumps them right into the belly of the ship as it continues screeching to a halt. With their current velocity they are forced to lean bodily to the right as he hits the brakes. They bump against wooden crates and iron chests as the momentum slows. Finally, they screech to a halt just before they would have crashed right against the cockpit doors. The smell of burnt rubber permeates the air as the copilot comes dashing into the cargo hold to see what had happened.

"Are you all right?" he asks turning so that he could look at Stella.

There is silence at first, until he hears her laughter. "Can we do that again?" she asks. Her blue eyes are sparkling at him in excitement and he feels that queer feeling again.

There was that irrational need to be close to her yet again.

"What is the meaning of this?" the man finally shouts angrily as he looks at the mess they have made. "Do you have any idea what you...?"

The man stops mid tirade to gap as he watches Noctis lift the helmet from his head to look back at him.

"I apologize," he says with a smirk. "But I had to stop your ship."

"You, your Majesty!" the man cries as he bows awkwardly before him.

He turns to see Stella, still consciously keeping her helmet on, as the man stumbles on his own apologies for speaking so harshly to him.

"Noct, did you stop the airships?" asks Phil in his ear. "We didn't find anything on the truck."

"One got away," he says as he watches the amusement in Stella's eyes through her visor.

He is just about to smile back when he feels that intense screaming calling out to him again. It sounds desperate in its cries that he almost stumbles to the floor. He thinks he might have but then it is gone. Gone as quickly as it had hit him. It vanishes as if it had never called him. His eyes fly to Stella's and he can see her confusion and concern. He can feel those things from her.

"What's going on over there?" he hears Cal say and it brings him back to himself.

"We lost it," he says in a strangled voice.

"Can you tell me what...?"

The earpiece goes dead. The sound of the power draining from the plane surrounds them. He feels that too. He can feel the absence of Crystal energy.

"No," he whispers, before he teleports outside.

Quickly looking out into the city he sees only a few sporadically flickering lights sporadically throughout the city. The rest is in complete darkness. He can hear the shouts of alarm but knows that they were will subside in another moment. This is what they had feared for so many years. They had not known how much longer their Crystal would be useable so they had developed a temporary solution for when the time came. As he recalls it, he can hear the hum of electricity return as the city's backup generators kicked in and all the lights were lit once more. But it was just a small comfort. Though the people would not know, he could tell the difference. This was not Crystal energy. They needed to get the delegates out of the city before the backups ran out or malfunctioned. It had never been used before and had been unreliable during the tests. He is not sure how long that would take, but he was not going to take any chances to expose just how vulnerable Nihilsomno had just become.

"The city," he hears the copilot say behind him.

"What just happened?" he hears another masculine voice say. He assumes that is the voice of the captain's.

He does not answer as he looks at the time on his watch. The delegates were leaving in less than thirty minutes. He wanted them gone. They needed to be gone. He needed to act.

"Simple crystal testing," he says in his most convincing voice. "Merely a power glitch." He turns around to smile at the men. "It was a good thing that you had not been in the air when the glitch occurred."

"You have saved us, your Majesty," says the Captain with a submissive bow.

He shakes his head. "Do not think much of it. I only apologize for the delay this glitch will cost you."

"Not at all," assures the captain.

"If you gentlemen do not mind, I must get going," he says as he looks at Stella.

"Yes, oh yes. Please be on your way," says the copilot.

He nods at them warmly before teleporting back inside the ship to climb back onto Acerbus. Though he does not see her, he knows that Stella has followed him and is waiting silently as he adjusts his helmet.

"The delegates are leaving shortly," he says conversationally. "I think you need to leave at the same time."

"I want to help," she says softly.

He shakes his head firmly. "You will be more helpful to me if you went home with the rest of the delegates."

"Do you still think me guilty?"

Looking up, he peers through the glass of their helmets and looks into her face. Her eyes were telling him so many things. Things that he was too confused, too rushed and too torn to properly read.

"I do not know," he responds softly with a shake of his head.

He does not understand nor entirely like, that he feels guilty for saying that. A part of him wants to apologize and say something comforting to her. A big part of him balked at such a thought. He is saved from doing anything when she nods silently and climbs onto the seat behind him. Her arms wrap around his waist but he can feel the disappointment in her touch. He finds himself looking down at her hands, how they clutched together at his chest, before he pops the clutch and soars off the plane and back onto the pavement.

The ride back is not nearly as exciting as it had been a few minutes before. He still rode fast. For her benefit, he had even exaggerated a few turns and swerved a little dangerously when he avoided collision with a slow moving pick up. It did not seem like she had been paying attention. Her grasp around him remained the same and her head had remained down. It made him think about Phil's earlier comment about her being conflicted. She had defended him to her prejudiced father. She had spoken of him with hope, but he cannot help but wonder if she had already known about the tracker at that point. What if she had and that conversation had been carefully orchestrated? He could not know that. If Stella had been smart enough to discover it so quickly, who is to say she had not known during that recorded conversation? Now, perhaps she was trying to harness his guilt. It was not uncommon for women to use their wiles to distract men. Pouty lips and sad faces were often times powerful weapons against men. It had been working on him now.

Yet, even knowing that he could not trust her, why did it not stop him from wanting to stay close to her? He blames it on his attraction to her. Physical attraction was fleeting but incredibly powerful if you had not the will to fight it. She clouded his judgment with just her presence. She permeated his mind. She was a distraction more deadly than the soldiers he had fought last night. He needed to stay away from her. He needed to get her as far away from himself as he could. Back to Tenebrae would be the best solution. He was going to track down that airship that had managed to escape and take back his Crystal. He would figure out the who and why after he had successfully retrieved it. Then he could deal with Stella again. Maybe then he would have his head on straight and not have this attraction driving him to distraction.

He pulls back into the garage and shuts Acerbus down. The resounding silence that follows where the roar of the engine had been is stifling. Stella releases her hold around his waist and steps off, making him feel strangely bereft. He slides the sidestand down and climbs off himself. Black gloved hands reach up to take off his helmet and he shakes his hair out before settling his eyes upon her. In her hands is the helmet he had given her and she offers it back to him. He grabs onto the bottom but she tugs on it before he can take it. His eyes meet hers as they both have a hold on the helmet.

"Thank you for the ride," she says.

"Thank you for the company."

"I see trust is going to be a barrier for us."

"It will," he agrees.

"So I am to return home while you continue the hunt."

"Yes."

"No keeping me close in case I try to escape?" she asks curiously. "I still am your first suspect."

"It does not matter if you do run," he says and his tone sounds almost possessive in its fierceness. He takes a predatory step towards her. "I would find you."

"I bet you would," she replies. She does not step away. "This was not how I envisioned this day to pass."

Neither did he, but he will be glad when he will no longer feel so irresistibly drawn to her. He hopes that it will fade and by the time they saw each other again, he would not feel so many conflicting emotions about her. Right now, he had to get her to leave. So it is a relief when she finally lets go of the helmet and steps back for the door. Just as he had the night before, he steps forward to watch her as she walks away. It is when she is just at the door that she turns around to look at him again. She does not speak for several moments as she stares at him, like there was something left unsaid that she needed to say. There is conflict in her eyes. She look as torn as he feels. He waits for her but they are both conscious of the passing minutes.

"This is not good bye," she promises him.

He shakes his head. No, it was not.

She has this curious look on her face before it is gone and she rushes away.

_Let her go._

"I am," he hisses as he watches until she is completely out of sight.

He senses the three presences behind him before he hears their footfalls and he turns away from where she had gone.

"Stell getting her things ready?" asks Cal as he gives him a sly grin.

"She is," he answers. He exchanges looks between Phil and Durus.

"Whatever you guys are going to be doing, I want in," says Cal as he looks at them.

"You need to go home," says Durus.

"No, something huge just happened earlier and you guys obviously still think Stella is involved."

"You just need an excuse to spy on us," accuses Durus.

"Spying is such a nasty word," says Cal. "I want to clear Stella. The only way to keep the peace is to make sure I prove it wasn't her. Or else this peace conference that we just concluded was a bust. None of you want that." He looks between the three of them. "Besides, I know none of you boys have ever been outside your own walls. You'll stick out too much and once people find out where you're from? You'll never find out what happens to whatever was on that ship."

"He has a point," says Phil.

"You can't be serious," says Durus in surprise.

"I am offering you a Knight's service," vows Cal to Noctis. "On my honor, I will not betray you." He raises his hand to his heart. "Besides," he adds grinning at Durus. "I'm sure he won't let me out of his sight long enough to even try."

"You got that right," growls Durus.

He looks at Cal and wonders if he can truly trust him. Right now, he did not have much of a choice. They needed help and he was the best option at the moment.

"Then I accept your services," he grants.

"Am I part of the group then?" asks Cal eagerly.

"On a temporary basis," answers Phil with a smirk.

"Cool!" cries Cal with a hoot.

"We must go now," he says, but there is a smirk on his face too. "The delegates will be leaving and we need to see them off." He looks at Cal. "Meet us here after the farewell ceremony."

"Will do," responds Cal with a nod.

"Phil," he says. "I want to know exactly where that plane was going and everything about who owns it."

"Now that I am part of your group," adds Cal. "Can you tell me just what we're going after?"

"We will once you meet us back here," he answers. "Not before."

They all nod at each other before they start to make their way back to the castle. He tilts his head as Cal says his good byes with Durus following closely behind him with a distrusting face.

"It starts," jokes Cal with a shrug as they go off their separate way.

It leaves him time to catch up with Phil.

"Have anything?" he asks.

"The manifest says its on its way to Glacies."

"The ice kingdom?" he asks. "That is on the other side of the world."

"ETA is in three days," adds Phil.

"Any stops?"

"No," he replies. "I guess we can be thankful that those types of airships don't go very fast."

"It is a gamble," he says. "Even if that is accurate, we cannot use one of our own ships to pursue it."

"We're going to have to get one from outside the city."

"The only place with a fast enough ship would be Tenebrae," he says. "And it would be a day's drive to get there."

"Couldn't we just ask Stella…?"

"No," he says firmly. "She would only insist on coming along."

"You wouldn't like that?" Phil asks, looking at him in confusion.

"She is dangerous," is all he says. "Can you tell me who owns the plane?"

"That is going to take some more time digging. Time which we do not have. The tags were old and it looks like a dummy corporation on the claim."

"Which means it would take ages to track the real people," he adds grimly.

"Noct, it really would be faster if we just asked Stella to borrow a ship."

"No," he says again. "I know it sounds stupid not to, but I need to stay away from her."

"Do you still think Stella did it?"

"She confuses me," he confesses. "Whether directly or indirectly, she is involved."

"And if she is directly involved?"

He does not want to think about what he would have to do if she was. It is too far away into the future to think about now anyway. They had many things they needed to do. That decision would be made when the time came.

"Let us hope that she is not," he answers as they head towards his place within the procession of limos. It was time to see the delegates off.


	5. Cursus

A/N: Thank to everyone who has reviewed! Can't think of a proper A/N at the moment, but will add anything in my Profile.

Cursus is latin for "course".

_**Chapter Five: Cursus**_

How does a puppet show that it will not be controlled any longer? That it would no longer exist in a box, only to be brought out and used to entertain? Does it simply reach out and cut the strings that move it? Would that message be enough to prove its point? Or was something more drastic necessary? Things were just about as drastic as they could possibly get now.

The first bullet that manages to get past his shield whizzes precariously past Cal's head. The blond hair sways just a touch as it barely grazes the tips on its flight past him. Curses soon follow as the blond man realizes just how close that shot had been. It had been close, but not enough to the sheer amount of cursing that followed. His own thoughts are that it was much harder to shield four people than it was just him alone. Though it is a bit too late to realize it should have been included in his training beforehand. It is not like he has never been shot at before. He is sure that Cal has been shot at before too. Phil and Durus were trained for such situations and were calmly but swiftly making their way to the garage. Neither one of them hesitates, confident that they will make it. When Cal raises his rifle to retaliate he stops him with a firm hand on the trigger and shakes his head.

"Those are my men," he tells him.

"They're shooting at us!" protests Cal with an angry frown.

"We deal with that when we return," he answers calmly.

Phil jumps into the driver's seat of one of the black armored cars.

"Get in the car," he tells Cal.

Before he can even think to argue, Durus grabs Cal by the collar and drags him to the other side of the car towards the front passenger seat. The shots continue to be fired towards them but bounce uselessly against his swords. Only after he is certain that the others are safely inside does he try to get inside himself. He opens the door and turns back to glare over his shoulder. His glare extends beyond the guards to man behind them. Behind the guards seeking to prevent him from leaving is Legatus. His red eyes lock with the other man's in open defiance. It is the first time he does not bother to hide the distrust and resentment he feels towards his would be mentor. His mocking excuse for a protector and counselor. The responding expression on Legatus' face is a mixture of worry and begrudging respect but he does not have time to dissect it. Having his own men attack him was inexcusable. To stop him now when his people needed him to act was treason. His last words to Legatus, just before this race began, echos between them.

_I will no longer be your willing puppet._

Deliberately and pointedly, he turns back around to get inside the car before slamming the door. The engine roars to life and the guards giving chase are thrown backwards in a wave of blue. Tires burn rubber as the car jerks forward and they make their escape in a billow of smoke as they zoom off into the night.

"Can someone tell me what's going on here?" demands Cal angrily. "Your people have a funny way of showing affection."

"Those men were sent from the Concilium," explains Phil as he speeds them down the highway. "They will do anything to stop Noct from leaving the city."

"Phil, what about the other cars in the garage?" he asks leaning forward with his hand on Phil's seat.

"Already taken care of," answers Phil as he turns the wheel sharply to change lanes and take the lone highway leading out of the city.

"Did I read that sign right?" asks Cal. He jerks his thumb in the direction of the sign they just passed. "We're going to drive through Vallisacerbus?"

"You have a problem with that?" challenges Durus.

"Only that it's suicide to go through there," answers Cal. "You do know that, right?"

"We have no choice," he answers.

"Where are we going anyway? This isn't where the airship was headed."

"We need to go get an airship," says Phil.

"You're the Prince," Cal says turning around to look at him. "Can't you just take one?"

"Ours are unreliable at the moment," he says evasively.

"What? Why not?" Cal asks with a perplexed look on his expressive face. "You're the most advanced nation in our world and you can't make a reliable airship?!"

"They _were_ reliable until this afternoon," growls Durus.

The answer causes Cal to still. He looks at them in shocked disbelief.

"Wah.... so... wait, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"Why? What do you think we're telling you?" Phil asks dryly.

"That... someone stole your Crystal, the _last_ Crystal," says Cal. Then his eyes fly to Noctis. "_That_ is what you think Stella stole?"

"I would not bother demanding a mere trinket back," he replies.

"Okay, then we are in some deep, stinky manure right now," exclaims Cal.

"Nice choice of words," comments Phil.

"Are you still willing to offer me your help?" he asks. With this new information, he has to make sure he can still trust him.

"When people find out that the Crystal's no longer protected and out in the open, they'll be all sorts of unsavory individuals chasing after it," states Cal, it is as much for himself as it is for them. "We're going to be fighting every villain on the planet now."

"Highly likely," agrees Phil calmly.

"You still in Tenebraen?" growls Durus as he leans closer to Cal.

"Hands down, heck yeah!" cries Cal with an eager grin. "Chances like this don't happen every lifetime."

"He's as crazy as we are," Durus says looking at Noctis. It is the most approving thing Durus has said about Cal thus far.

"He would not fit in otherwise," he answers Durus with a smirk.

"Still gonna keep an eye on you though," warns Durus with a glare at Cal, but he can tell that Durus is glad to have Cal with them. They were going to need all the assistance that was offered.

"Are you not tempted to claim the Crystal for your own country?" he cannot help but ask.

"And have war against pretty much everyone?" balks Cal. "No way. Better you kept it. Even though I do think you guys could have at least shared instead of holing yourselves up like some sort of prison."

How very accurately described. A prison, no matter how beautiful, was still a prison.

"I thank you for your candor," he says in surprise. Cal's statements were definitely something to take under consideration.

"First let's hope we make it out of here first before we start to worry about the other stuff," says Cal. "Where are we going to right now anyway?"

"Tenebrae," says Phil.

"Really? I'm sure Stell would love to help too."

"I do not want Stella to know we are there," he says quickly.

"No girls allowed in our group or something?"

"I would not put her in the way of danger needlessly."

"Now that is sweet of you, but I wouldn't worry about Stell," reassures Cal with a shake of his head. "Danger never scared her before."

No, it would not. She had already come close to death. Danger was not anything to fear in comparison.

"I still do not want to involve her," he presses.

"All right. All right. We'll keep Stell out of it," Cal relents. "But she's going to have my hide when she finds out we were there and I didn't tell her."

Though he had only caught a glimpse of their interactions together, it was obvious to see that the two cousins had a very close relationship. He does not envy Cal when Stella did discover that they had been to Tenebrae and had not alerted her.

"Do you know where we may obtain a suitable ship?" he asks.

"What constitutes as suitable?" asks Cal.

"One that knows how to book it," adds Phil.

"Sure I do," answers Cal. "I fly them. How fast are we talking?"

"The Crystal is on a freight that will take three days to reach its destination in Glacias," answers Noctis.

"Oh fish sticks," groans Cal. "That is nomad, freezing territory and it's on the other side of the planet."

"So we have no time for sightseeing once we get to Tenebrae," points out Durus.

Cal ignores the comment and begins to make mental calculations out loud.

"That means we'll need one that'll get there in half the time if we're going to intercept it at landing. Which would be the best time to get it back," Cal stops to tap his finger against his chin. "It'll be a close one but we could do it. Just so long as we don't have too many delays."

That at least, is a margin of comfort. A very small margin, but at least it was something.

"You know," mentions Cal. "We're not gonna make it all the way to Tenebrea with one tank of gas."

"Why don't you let me worry about that," says Phil, pushing his glasses closer to his face.

"Is this a special kind of car or something?"

"In a way."

"Come on! You gotta give me more than that," protests Cal.

He can see Phil's eyes look to his through the rearview mirror.

"What?" asks Cal as he turns to look at him sitting in the back.

"Certain things work better when I am close by," he answers sheepishly. It was a little embarrassing to say.

"So you're like an energy boost or something?" asks Cal.

"Of sorts," he answers vaguely. They had never been able to understand why that was. Well, they might have if they knew the other thing he could do.

"Did the Light give you that power?"

"I suppose it did," he says simply. He could never rule that possibility out.

"You're really different from Stell then," says Cal, giving him a sideways glance.

"How do you mean?" he asks.

"She has her powers but they're not as... honed in as yours."

"Can she do something different?"

"I wouldn't say different, just not like yours," answers Cal carefully.

He was not going to pry. Etiquette prevented him from asking further. Even though he really wanted to know the things that Stella was capable of doing. Fortunately, Cal's hesitation was not distrust but his failure to find the right words to explain.

"Your powers, from what I've seen just seem more powerful," Cal tries to explain again. Then shakes his head in frustration.

That does not surprise him. He already knew why it seemed Stella's powers were not as strong as his. It was not for lack of training or talent. Those things had nothing to do with it. He mentally shakes his head because he does not want to think about that right now. He just hopes that Cal does not figure out why he was more powerful than Stella. Which begged the question of other or not Stella had already figured it out. He does not know whether he is pleased if she had or not. She would already have known or would have already glimpsed the sort of person he was if she had. That he was definitely not the person that she should be easily teasing and eager to make "friends" with. Even now, to use the term "friends", as a way to describe them left a bad taste in his mouth.

"So you're sure that we're good with the car," Cal asks again to make sure.

"Why are you so worried about the car breaking down?" asks Durus.

"I have to worry," protests Cal. "Who is the one that you're going to have push if it does?" He points at himself.

"Are you going to be talking the entire way?" groans Durus. He is pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It makes him smirk as it reminds him that they were not accustomed to so many questions and definitely not used to such long conversation.

"Hey I have questions. There's a lot I have to catch up on. You'd do the sa..." Cal cuts himself off to yawn. Quite audibly in fact. Then shakes his head as if to clear it "You would too if..." and stops again to yawn even louder than before.

"No way," says Durus, blinking at him disbelief.

"He had been telling the truth," he chuckles.

Phil snorts from the front seat.

Curiously, he peers over Phil's seat to check the time on the dashboard clock and looks back at Cal in astonishment.

"You weren't kidding," blinks Durus in surprise as Cal continues to yawn.

They all watch as he starts to make chewing noises with eyes that are suddenly droopy.

"Get your rest," he advises and he does not know whether to laugh or gap at Cal's ability to sleep as soon as the clock reached midnight.

"Wore myself out. All this excitement. Wake me when the fun starts," says Cal. He leans his head back against the headrest and crosses his arms before his chest. He is asleep not a moment later. There had been no real warning. One moment full of life and the next had not the strength to keep his eyes open. That was a gift.

The other three men in the car stare at him in shock as he falls fast asleep, completely unaware of their stares. Durus leans forward as if to check and make sure Cal is indeed sleeping before leaning back again with a shake of his head.

"Now if only we could sleep like that," says Phil and there is a little envy in his voice.

"If only," he agrees. He leans to rest his face upon his fist to stare out into the vast, dark valley around them.

Durus nods beside him but does not speak out loud. Now that Cal was not capable of asking anymore questions, they all settled back now that there was a quiet within the car.

There is a carefree, listless spirit in Cal. It is a rare thing for them to know. Rare and almost precious in a world thick with indescribable gloom. He wonders about a man who could retain such a genuinely cheerful disposition. It was almost a childlike innocence in his easy acceptance and willing attitude. Something so seldom seen, especially to the three of them. Stella had displayed similar qualities. In her he had found an openness, a small vulnerability that was so foreign. It brought out this compulsion, this need to constantly be around her, to hover over her. To think that she could do something as devious as steal the Crystal and still maintain an air of wonderment. It made his affliction for her almost primal in response.

That he had almost kissed her. That he had almost pressed his lips against hers. First, it had been the impulse to grab her and then it was the urge to see how she tasted. It presses upon him the need to stay away from her. Or to have her stay away from him. Which was the current situation. Yet, there is that part of him, that part eager to explore, that is curious. Stella was obviously not all that she seemed. He was definitely not all that he seemed. Together, they were something else entirely from even that. The possibility of being two different people was likely, he did it all the time, but having a third as well? Yet he had not been either of his usual selves when he had been with her. He refuses to think of her in a hopeful way. In that hopeful, naïve sort of way that had room for things like possibilities. He cannot afford to. Then why, did he already want to see her again after only a few hours of separation? Why did he want another opportunity to lean in close enough to inhale the intoxicating scent of her hair? Why did he want to feel what it would be like to grab hold of her and kiss her even now? This would not suit.

They were too volatile a mix. He was dangerous and so was she. Only not in the obvious sort of way that he was. He was dangerous in an obvious sort of way. She was a danger of a different sort. Whether that sort were more lethal remained to be seen. He was the very night in a way that would frighten her. In a way that would frighten anyone that was smart enough to see it. Phil and Durus had always been stuck without a choice. Well, at least he did not think they had a choice. They had been with him so long they must have grown accustomed to it. Or maybe it was their similar background that made them better able to cope. Why they were so devoted he could not fathom. Now he had Cal and if he allowed it, he could have Stella as well. If they only knew what he had done. They would not want to be within his world of night. They could not possibly want that. Could they? Would she?

Red eyes blink away and turn back to blue as he mentally shakes away his thoughts of Stella. Thoughts of her were not conducive to their haste in reaching Glacies before the Crystal. He could not afford to dwell so much on her now. So he thinks of that instead. Why Glacies? It was said to be a rather wild, untamed land. Not heavily populated but enough that someone with a keen eye would realize what had been transported there. Maybe that was the point. One of which does not sit well with him. He would feel cheapened at being bested by people who only sought to see it to the highest bidder. There had to be a better reason than that. Perhaps it was a smarter decision in that, instead of having it delivered straight away to Tenebrae, it would divert attention. He does not understand that either. Stella stealing the Crystal to benefit her country would be political and social suicide. The other nations had already settled on the matter within the peace conference to have Nihilsomno keep the Crystal, but to learn to use it wisely. Stealing it did not make sense.

Even in the off chance that she did not steal it, Stella was somehow involved. Of that he was completely convinced of. What he was unclear on was the how. She would be intelligent enough to know that simply stealing it would not work. Something else was happening. Something he was not thinking of. The motives were as equally important as the crime itself and he would not be satisfied with merely getting the Crystal back. He was going to find out why it was taken in the first place. For that was the more important question.

Looking outside, he has been aware of the dangers around them now. There have always been stories of deadly beings within the valley of darkness. Even had he not heard them, he would have been able to feel them. Evil always knew the presence of other evils nearby. He can feel the hollowness of life as they continue their drive along this empty, deserted stretch of highway. Others may sense the danger lurking in secret, but he can _feel_ it and he had been feeling it for quite some time now. It is the reason that his eyes continue to turn red though he is not fighting, yet. Instinct and caution were keeping them red as a warning. Whatever is out there was going to make its move. Soon, but not now. It does not understand his presence beside the presence of the other three with him. So, now it merely watches and stalks them as it observes what it must do in order to defeat them.

_It would still not be ready._

"Noct," says Phil.

"Do you get that sense too?" asks Durus.

"Yes," he answers.

"How long before we see it?" asks Phil.

"It is coming closer," he replies. "I wager at first light."

"Not under cover of darkness?"

Taking in a breathe he opens his senses and squints his eyes in focus.

"No," he finally answers a moment later. He can feel glimpses of what the other was feeling. "It feels the advantage at day."

"Thinking you are weak in the daylight?" Durus asks curiously.

"No, it does not think that," he says slowly with a tilt of his head. "Something approaches. We will not reach it until it is light."

"Guess we'll figure it out when we see it," says Phil.

"What about the grunt?" asks Durus with a jerk of his head towards the snoring Cal.

The three of them look at the newcomer. One who is snoring as shamelessly as he does everything else. With mouth opened wide, accompanied with an occasional scratch to his already messy hair. He can tell Cal will always be the focal point in which to stare at in amusement.

"No need to rush him towards a nightmare," he answers.

The sun was already beginning its ascent. He watches it as the black sky changes and the first bright rays streak across the dead sands of the valley. Hot light chases away cold shadows for another day. If only it could be that way for him. If only he could chase away the blackness. If only, but such a thing was impossible when the blackness seeped into his soul. The blackness _was _his soul. It was his very life. He could know nothing but blackness. This had been what Stella had been so willing to remain close to? That she had been willing to help? She was a walking set of contradictions.

_Strange and fascinating creature_, he thinks with a sigh. Would but the day he would not think of her so intensely come quickly. As they get closer and closer, he feels the temptation to sneak a glance of her once they reach Tenebrae. If he could but lack this desire too, one day soon.

"Hey, what's that?"

Cal's voice cuts through his thoughts and he lifts his head to see what is ahead of them.

"You were right, Noct," says Phil, but not in surprise. It is simple acknowledgment.

"About what?" asks Cal.

"Seeing something at first light," answers Phil. He starts to hit the brakes and they come to a stop before the bit of collapsed highway just at the waterfront.

"Talk about a delay!" cries Cal as he starts to open his door. "Wahho!"

"How are we going to get across, Noct?" asks Durus.

"I think I might know in a moment," he answers, opening his door to follow Cal outside.

The waters are rapid, slapping against the shores as he shuts his door to observe the scene. He gauges how wide the gap is while keeping his gaze on the turbulent waters. His eyes run along the areas where the concrete had broken. The collapse is fresh. Cracks in the concrete are still ragged where they would be dulled if old.

"Get back in the car," he warns.

"Why? Wha...?"

Cal does not get to finish speaking when the monster begins its emergence from the water. Streams of water drizzle down its scaly head of horns. Large fangs are bared in a permanent look of menace with black eyes intent on their smaller forms. It growls in warning as it stands to its full height to reveal razor sharp claws.

"Woh!" yelps Cal a moment before swinging his rifle and fires, twice. One shot bounces off a curled fang and the other grazes the nose. There is almost a glimmer of a smirk on the monster's face in response to the futile attempt to harm it.

"Suicidal idiot!" shouts Durus as he jumps out of the car and fires from his own rifle.

"Back it up!" he shouts to Phil, slamming his fist against the hood.

The car flies into reverse to get out of the way.

One of Durus' shots hits the corner of a massive eye, causing the monster to roar in response. The hot, moist breathe smells of decaying flesh as it rears its head and raises a claw in the air. Neither Cal nor Durus cower as they both continue to fire. With a flick of his wrist, he uses his telekinesis to push them both backwards to narrowly avoid being crushed under the massive limb. Bullets bounce against impenetrable scales and it begins to open its massive jaws to spit a balled mass of pure energy towards them. Just before it hits, he teleports directly within its line of fire. The force of impact rattles his shields and throws him backwards to land heavily onto his back. The wind is knocked out of his lungs and he quickly rolls over to get back up, shaking his head to clear the disorientation. It attacks again with a swipe of its claw, only to be met with his shield again. Flashes of blue splatter all around them as it tries again and again to hit him.

"Both of you in the car before I tell Phil to leave you behind!" he orders as he uses this powers to force the monster back.

His eyes do not move away from the threat in front of them. He raises his hand and his swords begin their rotation around him before he grabs hold of his choice. Red clashes with black as one evil looks upon the other in silent, deadly challenge. Red eye flashes as he breaks out into a run to face it head on. It roars at him and he glares back as he raises his arm to strike. Two evils clash together. It makes to grab him but he disappears to reappear upon its hand, before quickly running along its massive arm. He swipes deeply, into the joints of its shoulder, causing a howl of pain. It is not fast enough to react before he's on the other shoulder, slicing flesh in between its protective scales. The rest of his arsenal circle around like a lethal wind as he tells them where to stab and where to slice as he continues his assault.

This is not to kill it. Not yet. There is only one chance to get this right and he needs the creature weakened before he can act. It begins to thrash around erratically in its attempt at grabbing him. His next moves have to be absolutely accurate or else his friends will not make it across to the other side.

"Floor it!" he shouts.

He summons his broadest swords to simultaneously stab through each kneecap, causing the monster to roar once more before it crouches forward in reflex. Teleporting quickly, he appears on its back with both arms raised high above his head. Thrusting down with all his strength, he punctures the skin and down all the way to the bone and snaps the creature's spine. It gives a strangled cry before falling forward. It's horned face barely sinks below the surface as Phil launches the car right onto the broad back and uses it as a makeshift bridge.

"Noct, we're not going to make it," says Phil as they reach midway across the back.

"I got it," he answers as he appears at the tail end of the beast. Raising his hand before his face, he angles his shield to flatten and closes the remaining distance to the other side of the highway.

The car flies over him along with Cal's screams, scraping the bottom front before skidding to a halt on the other side. He appears in front of the car, facing back to make sure that the beast has really been slain.

"Holy radishes! That was crack worthy!" shouts Cal from behind him. Two of the other car doors open and the four of them watch the floating body. "Fan-flippin'-tastic!"

His right eye is still glowing as he continues to stare at the massive body before him. It does not move, aside from the motions of the roaring waters. Only once he senses the absence of life does he turn around to look at the three men behind him. Cal startles for a moment as he sees his eye glow for the first time.

"Does it do that every time you fight?"

"When the danger level is high enough," he answers. He blinks his eyes a few times before they are blue once more.

"That is very cool," gapes Cal.

That would not have been his word to describe the ability, but it is a complement and he will take it graciously.

"Come, we need to make it to your city before the day officially begins."


	6. Iter Itineris

A/N: I am sorry that it took so long to get this out. The Epilogue for Eclipse took up a lot of my time and then I was a little too bereft after it was posted. Now that it's finished, I can concentrate fully on this fic.

Iter Itineris is Latin for "Journey."

_**Chapter Six: Iter Itineris**_

This was a strange experience. Not a bad experience by any means, merely strange. Strange in an almost comforting sort of way. Which was strange in itself, when it was not what you would expect when you thought of something being strange. Yet, this was comforting and it was actually rather nice. It was strange and different in a pleasing sort of way. Casually walking through streets without having to worry about everyone gawking at you because of who you were was a decidedly pleasant experience. In Nihilsomno, everyone knew who he was. Here, in a strange land not too far away, it looked as if nobody knew who he was. They did not even seem to notice him at all if the bumps he has received from passersby were any indication. Yet instead of feeling a sense of entitlement, he feels relieved. He has never before experienced what it felt like to have anonymity and he finds he likes it. Living your life under the watchful eye of an entire nation was tiresome and he never enjoyed the limelight either. Darkness was easily chased away afterall. So it was almost against his very nature to be watched so closely all the time.

He does not have to run here. He does not have to hide here either. He can walk among everyone else and not have to be conscious of everything that was happening all around him. That did not mean he did not have to be cautious, but he did not have to be so wary. It helped that he was not with an official party, but with his friends instead. That made all the difference and what a difference it was. He could get used to feeling this free, to feeling this wistfulness.

Having never been outside his own country, he knew that things would be different for him once he entered another. He was not foolish enough to think that things were the same in every city in every country all over the planet. So he expected to see new things. He expected to see different people. What he expected and what he was seeing were two entirely different matters. His imagination would never have prepared him for just how differently people lived. Of course they would be beyond it. His was the only country that had the power of the Crystal to live off of. These did not. Even within a city as affluent as Tenebrae, you could see that there was hardship where there would not have been if they had, had a Crystal. Yet despite that set back, he could not deny that Tenebrae was still a beautiful place. The sun shone here like he had never seen. Where the skyscrapers of Nihilsomno were cold and black, Tenebrea's natural buildings were almost cheerful.

It was the cheerful part that had decidedly made him uncomfortable. He might even add, strange, but in the not so pleasant way. Of all the things to bother him like being in a completely foreign place or on the run from his own people, it was that Tenebrae had cheerful buildings that made him uneasy. He simply did not _do_ cheerful. Nor does he think he even knows how to be. It was not something that he had to contend with back at home, but he did here. Here he seemed almost surrounded by buildings that radiated life. Life when darkness had no place being within the same vicinity. Here in a town whose name was so bleak. It was an oxymoron if he ever saw one.

So engrossed with these musings is he, that when he suddenly finds himself in a headlock, he does not know how to react for a moment.

"So what do you think of my fair city, Noct?" grins Cal above him. "Not what you expected it..."

There is a grunt as he is released as quickly as he had been grabbed and he hears Durus growl.

"Put your hands on Noct like that again and I'll pop your head right off. You insubordinate reed!" threatens Durus as Cal taps on his meaty arm in a vain effort to get himself free.

"Let him go, Durus," he orders calmly.

"Phew! Can't blame a guy for trying!" cries Cal, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The buildings here are short," Phil observes dryly, looking around them from behind his glasses.

"More charm and definitely not so crowded," says Cal. "You people are stacked like a pile of building blocks. It's suffocating."

Suffocating. He had thought he had been the only one to feel that way in Nihilsomno. Only his sense of suffocation had not been the overcrowding of people. It had always been the constant scrutinizing eye of the Concilium and his people. He had never thought of his city as overpopulated, but comparing it to where he was now he may understand what Cal means. While there were many people walking around them, there were not nearly as many on any given day in his city. Often times there was no room on the sidewalk to walk, let alone enough room for moving vehicles on the streets. Perhaps that was a disadvantage in a city so full of opportunity. This even after admission was restricted to all outsiders.

As Cal points out various points of interest for them, he has to pause when a flicker of a feeling moves through his consciousness. There was something different in the very air of Tenebrae. It had nothing to do with the absence of Crystal energy either. There seemed to be a tint in the air around them that felt different to him. It was like there was something here. Something familiar and yet not. It's presence is subtle, to the point of being overlooked and unnoticed. A secret. One that would escape the notice of everyone, except to those who could feel it. Even to someone who could feel things the way he did. He could feel that it was just at the edge of his awareness. Which made him want to find it even more than if it had been obvious.

Taking a breathe and closing his eyes, he opens up his other senses and seeks it out. It was there, enough to alert his instincts but not enough for him to discern of its danger. The background noise around him comes to a muted silence as he hones all his focus on removing the barriers that conceal this evasive presence that lingers in the air. It's there, just out of reach of his psyche and he tries to follow it. He can feel its presence stronger now, but it itself is not yet strong. Just as he is about to grasp it, it knows he is searching for it and dashes away, but not fast enough. He makes to follow again but finds his way blocked. There is the sensation of flying as it diverts him and throws him at another presence. That other presence that is not familiar. He inhales sharply as the noise of the streets returns and though the connection is lost, he tries again.

"What the blazes is he doing?" Cal's voice breaks the connection completely and brings him back to himself.

When his eyes slowly reopen, they are red as the city around him comes sharply back into focus.

"Cal, I want you to take Durus and secure the necessary airship," he says. "Phil, you are with me."

"You just got all weird for a second there," says Cal. "Are you okay?"

"I was just taking in the air," he answers trying to found indifferent. That was not even a lie.

"What are you guys gonna do while I'm getting the ship?"

"I think I would like to walk around your city for a bit," he says. "It _is _my first time being out of my kingdom."

"Okay, I'll buy that for now," Cal answers giving him a look that said he was not at all fooled. "You guys got any money?"

"Yes, mother," deadpans Phil.

"Just making sure!"

"We shall be fine," he answers before a smirk appears on his face. "I promise to behave."

"Now you totally sound suspicious," says Cal with a laugh. "But I know you wanna get out of here as soon as possible so we'll leave it at that. Come on Scarface, we gotta get going."

"You like my scar so much, I could give you one of your own," growls Durus as he follows closely behind Cal.

"You guys keep the car," calls Cal behind his shoulder. "We'll be taking a cab."

He hopes their taxi drivers were not as bad as Nihilsomno's.

"Where are we going?" asks Phil.

"Not sure yet," he answers. He leads them away from the square they are standing in and makes his way to the bustling sidewalks of the city.

"How bad is it?" Phil asks following right beside him.

"Bad," he answers, making his way down the street. He keeps a slow enough pace so that they do not draw attention, but it is still brisk. "I am only undecided about how high of a degree of bad it is."

"That bad," states Phil, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

"If we had to, how long would it take you to hack into their archives?" he asks.

"Get me to an outlet and I'll get in," says Phil. "But you need to tell me what we're looking for."

"Tenebrae's city plans and schematics. Preferably the old ones."

"Then we should be looking for a library," says Phil. "I could use one of the terminals to get in."

It had not taken very long to find the city's main library. Not only was it centrally located, it was just as simple as stopping a passerby with a charming smile and simply asking. The woman had not even given them a suspicious look when she had answered. Once they had entered the building, Phil had gone straight to the terminal furthest from the entrance and got right to work.

"Cameras," Phil reminds.

"Already taken care of," he answers. He had redirected all of them just before they had entered into the building.

Phil quickly bypasses the library default menus and finds his way into the network.

"Primitive set up but still, it would keep out the commoners," Phil comments as the screen changes rapidly as he types.

Meanwhile, he keeps an eye out for anyone approaching them while Phil works as fast as he can.

"I'm assuming you're not interested in the geological landscape that Tenebrae was built on," says Phil.

"Not unless it is doomed to collapse within the next five minutes," he retorts. "Check for any underground tunnels and the structures that have access to them."

"The sewer and subways take up a lot of the underground," says Phil. "But you said to look for the older plans. Let's see here." He types a few more commands and a map appears.

"Those must be the original catacombs," he says pointing to the lines running underneath the surface streets. "Cross check with the current maps and see where they overlap."

Phil types while the current map and the old one align to perfectly match each other.

"That's impossible," Phil says with a shake of his head.

"There is no way for them to perfectly align like that," he agrees. "You cannot find another?"

"Someone's tampered with the archive," says Phil. "This is all that's showing up. Wait. It looks like there is a line running right under their temple to Etro."

Understandable considering she was Death. It was not a suitable temple if there was the absence of actual death underneath her walls.

"Are there any images of what the catacombs looks like beneath the temple?" he asks.

"Hold on a sec," says Phil as he types in another search. "Yeah, here."

The screen fills with various images of dingy stone walls and passageways from many different angles.

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "Those are not it."

"What exactly did you see?" asks Phil.

"I saw a tall room of stone walls of glowing blue," he says. "It starts out narrow and slowly expands. There was a body of water and that was where the blue light was coming from. An unnatural water."

"What was there?"

"A weakened evil that knows how to hide," he answers.

"But it was strong enough to throw you?"

He nods.

"Where did it throw you?"

"To Stella."

Phil blinks at him a few times as he thinks this over.

"So she really did come back here at least," Phil points out but it is obvious that he is not thinking about that fact.

"Yes," he answers. It bothers him that the presence had known that propelling him towards Stella's presence would work to in distracting him enough to break his concentration. It could have simply been that Stella's presence was stronger than its own, but he does not take comfort in thinking that. The action had been intentional. It had known that Stella could be used against him in such a way. This, unknown presence, was clever. He is just thankful that Stella had not felt his presence before he had immediately withdrawn.

"It would be too obvious if it were directly beneath the temple," comments Phil. "That would be lame."

Yes, it would be rather anticlimactic. Which is why he does not think it is there either.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark here," says Phil as he starts typing again.

"What is it?"

"Cross referencing any historical similarities between Tenebrae and Glacias."

To see why the Crystal was being sent there in the first place. It was worth checking out.

"Good idea," he says as he watches the screen shift again. "Anything?"

Phil pauses as his eyes scan the text quickly.

"There's a lot of stuff here," he says. "I'm going to have to copy it and look at it later." Phil reaches into his pocket and connects his laptop to the terminal.

He does another cursory sweep to see how much longer they have.

"The librarian looks as if he is about to start his rounds," he says, watching the crouched figure with bifocals check his watch. Then his eyes spot the two guards walking towards one of the far walls. "Security is coming to see why the cameras are all pointed in the wrong direction."

"Give me sixty seconds," says Phil as he types quickly.

"We have thirty to shut it down and ten to start moving," he says.

They both stare at the uploading percentage on the screen as it reaches 100%.

"Done," says Phil, already making to stand and tugging on the connector cable discreetly. He puts his laptop into the inner pocket of his jacket before bunching the cable behind his back.

They pass the librarian as the older man makes his way to their direction and nod in greeting. They keep their pace slow and casual as they make their way to the outer doors. He makes sure to move the cameras slowly back into their previous position as they step back out onto the sidewalk again. He keeps his senses alert until they are two blocks away before he discerns that they are not being followed. Just to be sure though, they walk in zig zags through the busy streets before going back around to where the car is parked.

"Do you think what you felt has something to do with the Crystal?" asks Phil.

"It was too weak for me to tell," he answers. "But I do not like that it was able to divert me so efficiently."

"How would it know to throw you at Stella?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he says.

"This doesn't look good for her," states Phil. "Or you."

"No it does not," he agrees. If anything, it confirmed her guilt more solidly. If this thing knew Stella and then knew how much Stella affected him, it was another connection to something that put her on opposing sides of him. That this presence had already known of his weakness for Stella. He shakes his head at himself.

"We need to see if there really is a connection between this thing and the Crystal," says Phil.

"You will find it," he says. "I can already tell you that."

"What do you want to do?"

"There is nothing I can do now," he says. "I do not know where it is. Right now the Crystal is more important. We can worry about whatever that is, later."

Leaving it for later was not a good idea. He knew that already, but they had no choice. Once the Crystal reached Glacies and they missed it they could very well lose it for good. There is also the fact that forestalling would mean not seeing Stella sooner that he was prepared to. What he needed most was distance from her. This had proved that she was already a liability to him and he refused to have any. There was no room for weakness when you dealt with beings that thrived from taking advantage of them. He needed to get out of Tenebrae and away from her. Every second that he was here, he risked her discovering his presence within her city. He knew that once she felt that he was there, she would come after him. She would demand he take her with them to prove her innocence, all while distracting him so completely that he could not think of anything but her. He thought of her too much already and this was when she was not even in front of him. Now that he had already honed in on her presence, she seemed to fill the air around him so that everything seemed to heighten his awareness of her. How was it possible to get so addicted so fast?

Yet it seemed easy. A little too easy when they reach the airfield to meet the others. Things had just gone a bit too smoothly for him to feel at ease. If the last two days had told him anything, it was that Fate and Irony seemed to like throwing obstacles in his way. He would be a fool to think that they would suddenly stop. They spy Cal and Durus standing just outside a large hangar and something about the way they are standing leads him to conclude that this might be that bump he had been expecting.

"I already have a bad feeling about this," comments Phil as he pulls up beside the other two.

"This is going to be interesting," he adds.

They both step out of the car.

"Hey just in time!" hollers Cal in greeting. "I managed to sweet talk someone into letting us take our best airship."

"More like stole the keys when they weren't looking," comments Durus with a roll of his eyes.

"I did sweet talk them to distraction," grins Cal with no remorse. He holds up the keys and jingles them around for show.

"How long do we have before they realize what you have done?" he asks with more amusement than worry.

"Long enough for us to get in the car and zoom away?" suggests Cal, just as they hear a shout from the other side of the hanger. "Maybe sooner."

"We had better hurry then," states Phil dryly as he slowly turns around to reenter the car.

They accelerate just as the attendant comes shouting towards them, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have your last name on your license plate," suggests Cal a little too late.

"I could always claim that you stole my car too," he suggests with a smirk.

"Which one is it?" asks Phil as they race along the long rows of airships.

"Last one on the left," answers Cal.

He inhales sharply through his nose in surprise and turns his face to look out the window.

"What? What is it?" asks Durus, trying to look back to see what he is looking for.

His face turns forward again as a smirk crosses his lips. Of course this was going to happen.

"We had better hurry," he says with a shake of his head.

"You know," says Phil, conversationally. "For a man who is supposed to be well connected, you shouldn't have to steal the key."

"I guess my connections are like Noct's," answers Cal with a shrug. "We got shot at leaving your city. We'll probably get shot at stealing the most expensive airship in Tenebrae."

"When this is all over, we shall have to go into hiding," he adds with a smirk.

"Eh," says Cal dismissively. "I'll charm myself out of it like I always do."

"Charming," answers Phil dryly, as he swerves to a stop beside the airship.

All four of them jump out and turn to see the approaching vehicles with blazing sirens. Phil pops the trunk and the other two grab at the bags inside the trunk.

"They're not going to damage the car, are they?" asks Phil.

"Nah," answers Cal with a shake of his head. "I'm sure it'll be fine in the impound."

"I suppose we are going to have to steal it when we get back," he says.

"I like hanging out with you guys," grins Cal. "It's never a dull moment."

Shots start firing.

"By the time we're done, we'll have been shot at by someone in every country," comments Durus as they rush towards the airship.

"Stories to tell the grandkids," adds Phil as they each climb the metal staircase.

"Get the engines started," he tells Cal. "I will stall them."

"You're not going to kill any of them, are you?" Cal turns back to give him a worried look.

He smirks at the look of concern on the usually carefree blond's face. "I promised you I would behave."

Turning towards the quickly approaching vehicles, he walks to meet them. Eyes turn red before his right one flashes brightly. Shots fire and bounce uselessly off his shields as he continues his strides to meet them head on. He can hear the roar of the airship's engines come to life behind him and he knows he has less than a minute before it can lift off. The vehicles come closer and closer. They accelerate as they see the airship lift and are almost ready to ram right into him when he lifts his arm before his face. The hoods of the cars reverberate as they hit his shields before the entire body of the vehicles are lifted. They flip over with the shockwave of his power and land in a shattering heap upside down.

"Get in, Noct!" Phil yells seconds before he teleports onto the entry stairwell.

They both stare down at the wreckage before climbing the rest of the way into the ship. They find the cockpit and he stands behind Cal to watch him steer the ship within the air.

"Are they going to be okay?" asks Cal as he expertly maneuvers the ship in the direction of Glacies.

"They will be sore, but they should be fine," he comments.

"Are they going to chase after us?" asks Durus.

"We don't have another ship that can go as fast as this one," answers Cal. "So no, they couldn't even if they tried."

That was a minor comfort at least. It is only once they are a safe enough distance away, does he step away from behind Cal. He could not take the risk that another ship would at least try to follow along behind, but a cursory glimpse with his senses and he knew that they were alone. Well, not really alone but that was another issue. He turns around and walks out of the cockpit. Phil is already studiously typing away on his laptop at a table in the open area of the airship.

"Of the many things that cross reference between Tenebrae and Glacies, they have always done a lot of trading," says Phil without stopping to look up at him.

"Anything we should be concerned about?"

"Not really," comments Phil. "But you may like to know that they really rip off Tenebrae on some of their goods."

"Everyone does it," he mutters, but he would have to keep a closer eye on what goods were coming from Glacies from now on. "Anything else?"

"I've already created a filter to weed out all the useless stuff," says Phil. He pauses briefly to push his glasses closer to his face.

"You should get some sleep," he advises.

"I'll do that," says Phil, stopping to give him a pointed look. "When you do." He continues his typing when his laptop makes a beeping noise. It causes him to stop typing and lean closer to the screen with squinting eyes. "It looks like those original catacombs underneath Tenebrae were created by people from Glacies."

That makes him frown. "Do you know who?"

"Doesn't say, but the two cities each had a set of catacombs constructed below them by the same people."

"It sounds like whoever they are, they want to use the Crystal for something specific," he says grimly. "So Glacies was definitely not a random spot to throw us off."

"You know, I think I remember hearing that Glacies has been having a weird fluctuation of seismic activity the last couple of months," says Phil as he adjusts his glasses in thought.

"Does not seem like it could be a coincidence," he states darkly.

"Glacies is also not very easily accessible," adds Phil.

True, Glacies was a more rugged terrain with unpredictable weather. It was often difficult to get a communication through for their trade arrangements. It always made shipments slow. Seismic activity would not have looked suspicious either because the area was always unstable. Which should have seemed strange considering it had a rather large main city for its commerce. So obviously the city was stable enough and these anomalies were a cover for some sort of testing.

"I have a bad feeling about this," says Phil. His typing has slowed and he can see the red blurriness in his friend's eyes from the light of the screen.

"I do too," he replies. "But we have no choice but to keep going and see where this leads."

Phil nods as he turns back to his screen.

"You look like you need to rest," he suggests again. "We all need it if we are going to figure this out."

"What about Durus?"

"He dozed off a bit in the car," he answers.

"And you?"

"You are worse than a mother," he chides. "I shall rest in a bit. I did get to rest in the car too."

Phil snorts in disbelief but he half closes his laptop before he's on his feet and giving him one of his long stares.

"Probably thinking about a certain, Princess," Phil says as he looks at him. "That doesn't count as resting cause I know how your mind works."

"Why do you say that?"

"She might be good for you," Phil comments, disregarding his question. "Sometimes I think you're so tightly wound that you'll snap."

He almost did. Twice. But he does not say anything out loud. It does not look like he needs to from the knowing look in his friend's tired eyes.

"Did you guys really make out?"

He frowns at the question.

"You _are_ going to snap," says Phil with a knowing smirk.

"I am not going to snap," he presses.

"Yeah, okay," answers Phil, but it was clear that he did not believe him.

He does not believe himself either, but he was most certainly going to try.

"Earlier, in the car," starts Phil. "It wasn't the guards that got your attention back there, was it."

It is a statement and question.

"You noticed?" he asks instead.

"Besides Durus asking, it's hard not to notice when you whip your head around so fast you could've given yourself whip lash."

He does not reply.

"I know I'm going to find out sooner than later," states Phil, pushing his glasses towards his face again tiredly. "But I'm going to wait until I've slept a bit." He makes a wave of salute towards him before heading down the hall towards one of the cabins.

After a quick check on Cal and Durus, he makes his way down the hall in the opposite direction of the cabins. It leads him towards the back of the ship and on towards the cargo hold. His hands hover over the handle a moment as he tries to clear his mind. He pushes the doors to open and takes a look around the dark, mostly empty room before stepping inside. The doors shut solidly behind him and he makes sure he is covered in darkness before he walks further into the room.

"I know you are here," he whispers and senses a startled movement to his left.

He disappears, only to reappear right beside the other presence in the room. A sigh threatens to escape his lips and he is not sure whether it is from frustration or pleasure as he looks down at wide blue eyes that he can see even in the dark.

"You really should not have come, Stella."


	7. Valde

Valde is Latin for "intensely."

**_Chapter Seven: Valde_**

Fate was a cruel mistress. Irony was never lost. Fortune was fickle. All seemed to be the one to blame here. A collective mix that seemed to amuse themselves by tormenting and teasing him. Though the methods had changed over the course of his young life, they had there just the same. They certainly were a clever bunch. Fortune made it possible for him to leave Nihilsomno. Irony had made it possible for them to only have Tenebrae as a choice to flee to. Fate had laid temptation upon him yet again with no sign of a reprieve. A clever and cruel bunch they were indeed. They knew exactly what they were doing.

What did it say about him that he was not entirely upset that Stella had discovered his presence afterall and had stowed away secretly within the airship? What did it say about him that he had not stopped her even though he had felt her coming? What did it say about him that he was secretly delighted that she was there when he had been so adamant about not seeing her again until further into the future? He could have stopped her. He could have prevented her. He could have spared them both this distracting thing between them. Yet he had not done anything. He had not even when he had known, even when most of him wanted to be as far away from her as possible. That had not been enough to compel him to action. Instead, he had allowed it. He would never admit that, but he had. It does not seem like he needed to anyway because he knew Durus already knew. Phil would know as soon as he woke up from his rest and saw her on board. Cal probably knew as well.

A masochist. He had never thought of himself as such. As someone who enjoyed the feeling of pain and sought torture where it could be found. Yet that was exactly what he was being by allowing Stella to sneak on board. That strange and fascinating creature. She was going to be the end of his sanity. Maybe she had already succeeded. There was no way a sane and rational person would purposely do this to himself. She was the enemy. She was a thief. She was not to be trusted. Well, it was not that he trusted her now because he still did not. He merely could not stay away from her. He could not let her stay away from him either. So yes, that would indeed, make him quite the masochist. It also made him quite mad as well.

"You really should not have come, Stella," he had said to her earlier.

They had been in the dark, in an enclosed room, alone. They really should not ever be allowed alone together. It allowed for far too many liberties to be taken. Or as in that case, too many liberties tempted to be taken.

"No, I suppose not," she had answered when she had gotten over her initial surprise.

He had been so rudely encroaching on her personal space again. It was becoming a dangerous habit of his. One that he could not even help. Though they had not been touching, he could feel the warmth of her body against his own. It had him wonder if she could feel the coldness of his body against hers. He did not think himself capable of radiating such heat as he had been feeling from her.

"But I think you need to know that I am not a woman who will stand idly by and merely watch," she had added with a lift of her chin in defiance. Even within the pitch blackness that covered them, his eyes had traced the lines of her mouth. Of course she would not be content with being just an observer. He would not have been as fascinated as he was by her if she had been.

"This is your ship, Princess," he had said in return. "Who am I to deny your presence on what is yours."

He had fought the temptation to lean in close to her just a touch more but had stepped back instead.

"I am sure your cousin will be very pleased to find out that you have joined us."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

He had blinked down at her genuinely puzzled face and frowned. He could almost believe those soulful blue eyes of hers.

"Glacies," he had answered, making his way back to the door and holding it open for her.

She had watched him for a moment and he knew that she had wanted to ask him what else he knew but had known not to. How very astute of her. Slowly, she had made her way towards him but as she had gotten closer it was clear that exiting the room was not her intention. Her movements had been slow and a touch hesitant, until she was standing directly in front of him.

"I thought you would be angry," she told him.

He _had_ been angry. He was _still_ angry. Only his anger had not been towards her. He had known she would react like this. He had known what she would do. So there was nothing to be angry with her. He was angry at himself for not stopping her in the first place.

"You must think low of me if you think something like this would cause such a strong emotion," he teased her instead.

"You are a very puzzling man," she had said, stepping even closer to him, but still a polite distance away. Too far.

"Have you tried to piece me together?" he had asked and it shamed him that it had come out breathless from her close proximity.

"Yes," she had answered bluntly.

Piecing him together when all he did was shatter into conflicting pieces because of her. He had watched with half lid eyes as she had stepped into his own personal space this time. That she would come closer to him of her own initiative was heady. His entire body had gone taut with tension that he neither backed away nor leaned in closer. Too affected by her closeness, he had almost jerked away when he had felt her soft hand on his chin. He had stilled so completely that he had not even dared to breath for fear of breaking from her gaze. Yet it had not been his gaze that she was so fascinated with as she touched him. She had not been looking into his eyes but at his lips until slowly, her eyes had traveled up his face and finally into his eyes. There had been no teasing or flirting smile in her eyes when they met his. There had been confusion and conflict instead.

"I could not have stayed away from you," she confessed in a whisper. For a moment it had looked as if she had been tempted to raise her fingers to touch his lips. He would not have been held responsible for his reaction if she had. Then finally, she had stepped away from him and walked into the light of the hallway.

"We should not be together," he had told her in response. Yet his eyes must have looked as he had felt at that moment. No matter the truthfulness of his words, his eyes could not look at her enough. Whether in darkness or covered in light, she was the most entrancing figure he had ever beheld.

Instead of taking that as a rejection, she had merely tilted her head to the side to look at him thoughtfully.

"Probably not," she had agreed. "But us together is inevitable, don't you think?"

Like the waves of the sea would never stop their beating upon the sands. It was just a matter of finding out what that inevitability was.

"I hope you are prepared," she had said with a small smile. It had been the teasing smile then and his reaction had been the same. "I cannot seem to stay away from you."

"I shall try to bear it," he had answered and he hopes that it had come out teasing and confident. He had not been feeling either. All he had known was that all consuming need to grab her and feel what it was like to have her in his arms. Merely thinking about it would only lead to even more trouble. He was in enough trouble already.

Taking another breath, he finds that it does not cleanse his soul in the least. He had been breathing like this for some time now and it still did nothing to ease his mind. Just knowing that she was so close, knowing that they were to remain on this accursed ship together for the night was maddening. He dared not leave this cabin for fear that he might corner her in a dimly lit area and touch her. It is almost appalling to his sense. He should have been capable of more control than this. Hiding away because he suddenly could not muster any restraint. It was utterly disappointing to his character that he should resort to this. Perhaps staying away was only making his longing worse? That perhaps through continuous exposure he would find her not so enticing. That he would come to find her company not so pleasant as he knew her better. It was a thought provoking idea.

He is vaguely aware that there has been a knock at the door but before he can tell them to leave him alone it opens.

"Hey Noct? Woah!" cries Cal in surprise.

Blue eyes open to stare at the blond haired man openly gaping at him in surprise and astonishment.

"Why are you...?" Cal tries again only to stop and gap at him again.

"I find it clears my head," he answers, closing his eyes and swinging his body a little.

"With your spiky hair you reminded me of a wolf but...," says Cal. "Now, I'd say you were more like a bat."

He opens his eyes again to see them leveled with Cal's. Only, he was seeing the other man upside down.

"A bat would be a more likely option for me," he says.

"How long have you been hanging like that?"

"I usually do not keep track," he answers behind closed eyes.

"Doesn't it give you a headache?"

"There is something rather therapeutic about being suspended like this," he says, but there is no use to stay like this now that Cal was here too. So he reaches up and unhooks his feet to fall fluidly back onto the floor. He takes a deep breath as the blood floods away from his face and twists his neck to ease the tension.

"I'd fall right on my head if I tried something like that," says Cal.

"Was there something that you needed?" he asks as he walks towards the small sink in the room. He runs the tap a moment before scooping some water and splashing his face.

"We're making good time to Glacies," relays Cal. "And the air is clear so I think we'll be able to intercept the Crystal before it gets there."

Turning the tap off, he leans with his hands on either side of the sink and looks at his reflection in the blurry metal mirror.

"That is good news," he responds. "But that is not why you are here."

"Heh, well, caught that did you?" Cal chuckles nervously.

"I owe you a bit of gratitude, Cal," he says turning around to look at him. "I know that things have been difficult."

"No, that's not it," reassures Cal with a shake of his hands to go along with the shaking of his head. "It's been a real blast. It's just that I wanted to talk to you about Stella."

That gives him pause. Speaking of Stella to her kin had the potential to be rather awkward.

"What would you like to discuss about your cousin?" he asks and he tries to keep his tone neutral.

"I know it must make you feel all sorts of angry that she's on the ship now when you think she's partially responsible for taking the Crystal in the first place," says Cal. "But I have to tell you that I know Stella didn't do it."

"I am not angry at Stella for coming with us," he says carefully. "And as to her guilt or her innocence, that shall have to wait. I want my Crystal back. The who and the why can come later."

"She didn't do it," Cal answers firmly. "I know she didn't. She's not capable of doing such a thing."

"I would like to believe that," he answers truthfully. "But so far, you must admit that I have reason to be wary."

"No, no I get that," agrees Cal. "I just don't want anything to happen to her."

"I would not harm Stella," he tells him again.

"No, that's not what I'm worried about," says Cal with a shake of his head.

"Then I am confused," he says as frown forms on his face.

"She's taken a real liking to you," admits Cal uneasily.

He cannot help but to stiffen at those words. Taken a liking to him?

"We are not well acquainted enough to have formed an attachment," he says, which is a complete falsehood. He was already more attached to her than he was to others he had known his entire life.

"I'm sure you're used to girls falling for you, being a prince and all," explains Cal.

Good gracious. This really was turning out to be an awkward conversation.

"I would not toy with your cousin's affection," he tells Cal. He was toying with his own too raggedly to do so with Stella's.

It seems to put Cal at ease at least and he hopes that it means that the conversation would now be closed.

"I knew you were a good man, Noct," says Cal.

"I am not a good man," he admits flatly. "But toying with people's emotions is something I find distasteful."

He had, had his own toyed with enough growing up. There was no possibility that he would seek an advantage by doing it to someone else.

Cal gives him a scrutinizing look before responding. "No, you are a good man. You just don't know it yet."

He feels himself bristling at that. There was nothing good about him. If Cal knew the intensity of his thoughts regarding Stella, he would know.

"You are misguided," he says shaking his head.

"Not gonna fight you on that," says Cal with a nod to himself. Much like he had reached a decision and it was final. "But I know you are and that's that until you prove otherwise."

There is admiration to be found in someone who always looked at the bright side of things. It was not a gift that he possessed.

"I am sure I shall," he admits. "You have not known me long enough."

"Self loathing can't be good for your health," states Cal with a crooked eyebrow.

"I assure you that my health is not an issue."

"Well, have you slept yet?"

"I do not have the ability to sleep as you do," he answers vaguely.

"Does that mean you don't _have_ to sleep or that you can't _fall_ asleep?"

"Sleep is a luxury that I have not earned," he says.

"You're a deep guy, Noct," says Cal with a shake of his head. "So deep that I don't think you realize that there is always a simpler way to things."

There is nothing to argue with there. It was true.

"My life has never been simple," he replies.

"That's really too bad," says Cal.

"Has Phil gotten up yet?" he asks, eager to change the subject.

"Didn't see him," Cal answers with a shrug.

He watches as Cal makes for the door.

"Cal," he calls.

"Yep?"

"Would, it bother you if an attachment did form between Stella and myself?" he wonders curiously. It is an irrational question but he finds he really does want to know the answer. That it would bother Cal would bother him as well.

"No," answers Cal and he can tell that he is being honest.

He is not sure if he is relieved by this or not. By all accounts Cal should be bothered if anything happened between himself and Stella.

"Despite you thinking so low of yourself, I think you're a good man," adds Cal. "And Stella isn't one of those boy crazy kind of girls. So if she'll have you, that says something good about you too."

Thinking of Stella as some hormonal female who latched onto whatever sort of man that came her way did not seem to match the creature that so incredibly fascinated him. She had been quick to speak to him and even flirt with him, but he had not gotten the impression that she was easy. Never, not even when she would have accepted his kiss. If that meant that she was easy, then so was he to be so quickly ensnared by her. Which brought him to the unwelcome thought of her kissing someone else. It almost made his vision red just imagining it. He feels an irrational jealousy towards those fortunate miscreants that had already experienced the feeling of her lips against theirs. Those fools that had not snatched her up but let her go so that he could covet her so intensely now.

He has to stop himself right there. From the smug look currently on Cal's face, he can already guess what sort of expression was on his face as these obsessive compulsions take hold.

"You might want to get to know Stell better," advises Cal, reaching the doorway before turning around to look at him again. "Then you'll agree that she's not capable of doing what you think she's done."

He nods in response because he does not know how else to respond. Getting to know Stella might actually help him to stop this. When Cal closes the door behind him, he feels as if the room has gone cold. Left alone with only his thoughts was indeed chilling. Of all the dark thoughts that he had ever contrived, he realizes that possessiveness had not been one of them. Perhaps it was part of his evolution. Evil beings were also selfish beings. They were also rather obsessive as well. So maybe this intensity should not have surprised him. He was merely being what was natural to him. Sinister things often craved the things that they could not have. Stella was something that he absolutely could not have. Which may explain why she captivated him so much.

This rational conclusion calms him. The anxiety seems to lessen somewhat. It was suddenly not so confining. Staying within these four walls was not productive in the least and he knew Phil was not one that would stay asleep this long. He grabs his jacket and zips it up before reattaching his belt around his waist. He does not stop to pause but opens the door to swiftly exit the cabin. It must be late afternoon or early evening already. The deep orange hues of a descending sun bathed the open area of the airship and his eyes quickly spied the typing figure of his friend.

Phil looks up to acknowledge him and a smirk crosses his lips before he returns to his typing.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks.

"More or less," Phil answers. It is a rather moot point. They both knew that he had not. None of their people seemed able to get any semblance of restful slumber. So it is a mystery why the riddle always described them as a city that was sleeping.

"Anything new?"

"Maybe," answers Phil vaguely. "But that's not what we should be talking about right now."

Of course. "I suppose we should get it over with," he says in resignation. "Are you going to say you already knew?"

"Not hard to see it happening," says Phil. "Just tell me that you're not going to avoid her the entire trip."

"It would be a difficult feat to accomplish given our confined proximity."

"So you're not going to at least try."

"I let her sneak on board," he says, letting his confusion leak through in his voice. "Ignoring her now would be contrary."

"I'm glad you think so too," answers Phil dryly. "She's been anxious since I came out an hour ago. Maybe you can make her less so."

"But, I am the cause of her anxiety."

"Which means only you can alleviate it," counters Phil, jerking his head toward the outer area doors. "She's out there."

"I am not the only one that is allowed to speak to her," he says and tries to sound indignant.

"No, but you're the only one she wants to speak to," answers Phil. He pauses from his work to look up at him. "And no, she didn't say that but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"You want me to speak to her now?" he asks incredulously.

"Go watch the sunset together," suggests Phil as he returns to his typing. "It'll be romantic."

"Romantic is definitely not the desired scenario."

"Right."

"I mean it."

"You're stalling."

"Why would I stall?"

"Look," says Phil, lifting his head to stare at him again. "Either you talk to her while the sun is still up or you'll be stuck out there with her in the dark. Which is the least likely to get you into trouble?"

Without another word, because he knew that Phil was right, he turns around and walks for the door. He feels like a scolded child though he knows Phil would never treat him as such. His friend just knew him a little too well. The sudden gust of wind surprises him with its forcefulness and he has to stop a moment to adjust. He steps onto the observation deck and runs his gaze around the area in search for her. On the far side, where the sunset was best viewed, was where she stood. He stares at the lines of her back as she looks out and watches the sun as it succumbs to the night. She does not turn at his approach as she had the last time and he makes sure that he is a dignified enough distance away as he stands beside her against the railing. Leaning his arms against the metal bars, he joins her in watching the sun bid them good night. Orange begins to turn red as the last vestiges of light fly through the sky.

"As much as the sun is vital, there is something about the moon that is so much more captivating," she comments as she keeps her eyes on the golden orb.

He nods his agreement before turning to watch her face and admires the glow that it creates across her features. Her eyes look almost red in this light and it takes his breathe away that she should look so lovely in the rays of golden light. It makes him wonder if she glowed blue as he did when his rune was activated. Gold suited her much better.

"The moon does not shine on its own," he finds himself saying. "Were it not for the sun, it would not shine to be as captivating as you say."

"Day cannot be without night," she agrees. Then she turns to him and smiles. "But I think we still prefer the night."

"It is easier to hide at night," he comments lightly.

"What do you hide from?"

"The eyes of those that would seek to bring about my ruin," he answers, before looking at her with a smirk. "For one who is afraid of nightmares, it is curious that you should prefer the night."

"You and I think of night in completely different ways," she explains.

"How do you see it then?"

"It is at night that all things enchanting take place," she answers. "It is when the unbelievable becomes believable. I think of it as something hopeful. You think of it as a better means to survive."

"We are both survivors."

"Yes," she agrees with a nod of her head. Her blue eyes turn to his and it looks as if she is trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes.

He holds her gaze and wonders what she can see written within them.

"I wish I could know you," she says finally. "I wish we could be friends."

There it was again. Friends. It sounds as unappealing as it did when she had first suggested it.

"I do not want to be friends," he tells her again.

"Is it because you do not like me?"

"My like or dislike of you has no bearing on this."

"Is it because you still believe I stole the Crystal?" she asks. He frowns at her. "Cal told me, but I had already guessed."

Of course she could. It would not have been hard to guess after she had seen most of the city lose power all at once.

"I know you do not want to be friends with me because I am from Tenebrae," she reasons. "Because Cal cannot stop talking about how cool he thinks you are. So it must be because you still believe I am responsible for the Crystal."

"My wish to not be friends with you would have remained the same even if you had no involvement with the Crystal," he tells her seriously. He had envisioned how things would have progressed. Of the life they would have led and the ultimate grief he would have given her. They would not have been friends either way.

"We are at an impasse and we have not even known each other a week," she states.

"I was told that I make you anxious," he says to change the subject. If she continued to press, he would be forced to tell her exactly why being friends was so repugnant to him.

"Is that what your friends said?" she asks, but she does not look angry, merely curious. "I feel like I am walking the thin edge of a razor's blade when I am around you."

She had hit the nail right on the head. "It is not wise for you to stay close to me," he warns. He wonders if she would run from him if she knew just how dangerously close she was to that edge.

"And yet, I cannot seem to stay away from you," she sighs.

"Perhaps you are merely attracted to the danger that you perceive from me," he suggests and he is half teasing and half serious when he says it.

"Like a girl who has a weakness for the bad boys?" she asks with a laugh.

He smirks at her. He was so much more than a bad boy.

"Then I am merely a phase that you need to outgrow," he tries to comment lightly, even though he craves her denial. He refuses to look at her afterwards for fear of exposing just how much he needed to hear her disagree.

"Latching onto danger for a thrill is cheap," she states. "There is no thrill to be had when one has already faced death and lived."

He supposes not. Danger was not a thrill for him either. It was merely a factor within a situation.

"So why is it that you cannot stay away from me?" he asks. Maybe if he knew her answer, then he could understand his own need. He does not realize that he is holding his breathe until he hears her release hers.

"There is no one answer to that," she answers honestly. "I wish I knew."

He turns to fully face her but he keeps his grip upon the railing to prevent himself from touching her.

"Which brings us back to that impasse," he says.

"Yes," she agrees and she looks as torn as he feels. "I suppose it does."

It is hard to describe the feeling this brings him to. Neither have the desire to openly acknowledge their mutual attraction and yet, both had inadvertently stated that it was there. She had at least wished to keep things civil whereas he would rather take everything or nothing at all. He wanted everything and would settle for no less. It is a complicated thing to be so quickly attached to someone he could not entirely trust. Attached being a very tame word to use as an adjective. She could deny her involvement and Cal could continue to vouch for her lack of involvement, but deep down it does not matter. There was something about Stella that he did not understand. It was that lack of understanding that makes him suspicious and there is naught much one could do once one had raised them. He does not like the feeling of being possessed of a will stronger than his own and that is exactly how his feelings for her were. It was a possession of feeling that was stronger than his will.

Even then, in the agreement of the unsteady ground with which they both stood against each other, he had to grip the railing ever tighter so as not to reach out for her. The brief touch of her hand from earlier had only ignited this craving that he had to feel more of her. To be touched again with the softness of her skin. Never before had he craved physical touch. He had gone so long without it. His own touch, he knew was constantly cold. Yet at the brief touch of her finger to his chin he had felt an incredible heat. A heat that radiated in the life of this tempting creature standing in front of him. One that sought the night yet seemed to shine too brightly for it. A brightness that the darkness so quickly ran from. Then why, why did he, the very example of darkness, seek her so much?


	8. Imperceptus

A/N: Noctis hanging upside down. I didn't know that many of you would comment on it but I'm glad that you guys thought it was so amusing. Why? It just seemed like something he would do. He's stuck on a ship and he really has nothing to do. I couldn't picture him as someone who would lie in a bed just to stare at the ceiling. There is also that I heard hanging upside down really does help to clear your head. Not sure if that is true since I would probably be like Cal and fall on my head instead of hanging like that.

Imperceptus is Latin for "unknown, unperceived."

_**Chapter Eight: Imperceptus**_

How does one seek relief when the blood within your very veins feels as if it seeks to boil right out from within them? It is a pain so intense that no scream is able to escape his lips. There is not even the hiss of a breathe because he cannot breath either. He feels trapped within his own mind, though his body still moves. Only it moves of someone else's volition instead of his own. It makes him feel like an observer instead of a participant. It is that, that fuels his rage. Even with this searing agony lacing through his body, he feels the rage against being the puppet yet again. A doll to be controlled and toyed with for the whims of someone other than himself when he had only just begun to take it back. To succumb to the will of yet another fills him with an anger so hot that it rivals the flames of his blood.

It is when he feels his jaw clench tightly that he realizes that he has regained control of himself. So he fights against the remaining bonds that seek to take over him and the pain, to rise back to his feet. The flash of red from his eyes clashes against the eerie blueness of the room. It takes him a moment to blink his eyes several times as he forces himself to remain standing before he realizes that he is alone. Alone to find that presence gone. That white cloaked figure that had been there. The figure that had done this to him by manipulating his Crystal against him. That faceless hooded figure that he was going to kill once he found him again.

His entire body racks with the aftershocks of the intense pain of before and he stumbles back onto his knees. He just barely catches himself with shaking arms as he tries to focus on how to achieve his next breath.

"Noctis!" he hears as if from far away. It is hard to hear over the pounding in his ears, but he knows that voice. That voice, accompanied with that body he so longed to feel. Gentle hands grasp his shoulders and soft fingers touch his face. He feels her arm against his back and he opens weary red eyes to stare into her blue ones. "What happened?"

He was asking himself that very same question. What happened?

To say things had not gone as planned seemed too obvious in its idiocy to even bother saying. Just before the sun declared the start of another day, they had finally reached Glacies. They had already prepared for the harsh winter conditions but not to the extent that they would be able to see through the thickness of a snowstorm. Cal had managed to land the airship without too much damage but they had, had to remain a short distance away from the actual city until the storm had lifted. By the time they had entered the city, the carrier airship had already arrived. Its engines had still been exhaling warm puffs of smoke so they had not been too far behind it.

Perhaps he had been too eager. Maybe he should have waited and given more thought. But he does not think that it would have mattered either way. He had raced on board the ship, ready to battle any fiend that was unfortunate enough to be in his way. Only to find that the entire area of the cargo hold was empty. All that had remained was a fresh scrape upon the metal floor where the Crystal must have been before it had been swiftly taken away. He had knelt down to touch it and had felt the slightness of energy that had remained behind. One look up at Stella and he knew that she understood this too. At least it had not been a fool's errand. The lingering essence of the Crystal told them that it had been there. So it had to have been smuggled to some other part of the city quickly upon arrival. The question had been where.

"Well, looks like the pilot and whoever else was on here, have flown the coup," commented Cal as he had returned from checking the rest of the ship. He had looked almost disappointed not to have used his ever present rifle.

"At least we know that they could not have taken off on another ship," said Phil. No, not with the wind blowing as it had been outside. "While we're here, I'm going to download the ship's records."

"But we gotta go, don't we?" asked Cal, watching as Phil made his way to the cockpit with a baffled look on his face.

"Phil knows what he's doing," said Durus confidently.

Always level headed and thinking about all aspects. Phil could always be counted on on to remember something that another would forget in their haste. To find out the who, they could more easily find the where.

Stella turned a questioning gaze toward him and he had responded with a confident nod in return.

"How long will he take?" asked Cal.

"Not long," he had answered.

He had used that time waiting to try and reach out to the Crystal. In hopes of perhaps coaxing it to call to him as it had when it was being taken out of Nihilsomno. It had been there, he had felt it, but something had been blocking his connection with it. Something that felt more like someone. All he had been able to discern was that it was close. Yet not close enough to make him feel a level of comfort. Whoever it had been that had it, was skilled with their abilities. He had known to be on his guard.

It was not too much time that elapsed when Phil finally resurfaced from the cockpit.

"I found out more information about that shell corporation that this ship was registered to," Phil related as he rejoined them. "It looks like the forwarding address is here."

"Is it far?" asked Stella.

"It wouldn't surprise me if it was an empty building," commented Durus.

He had to agree with his friend there. The chances of them actually finding a company at that address were too small to be hopeful. Yet it had been the only lead they had, so they had not much choice but to see where it would lead them.

Halfway there Phil had stopped them as a thought had struck him.

"Maybe we should split up," Phil suggested.

"Why?" asked Cal. "What are you thinking?"

"I may have a theory," answered Phil.

"What is it?" he had asked.

"Back in Tenebrae, we had found connections between your city and Glacies," said Phil carefully to Stella and Cal.

"What kind of connections?" asked Stella in surprise.

"There was a group that had been responsible for building the catacombs beneath your city," continued Phil. "Those same people were responsible for certain buildings here in Glacies as well."

"What does that have to do with this?" asked Cal.

Phil looked at him for that explanation.

"I felt something back in Tenebrae," he admitted. "When I tried to seek it out, I saw something beneath the city."

"What was it?" asked Stella.

"I am not certain what I saw," he confessed. "All I caught were glimpses of blue glowing water within a stone room."

"How are you so sure that it was underground?" asked Cal.

"Instinct," he had answered. "Ones such as I like to hide underneath the surface."

"Ones like you?" asked Cal with a frown.

"Beings that have similar powers," explained Stella.

She neglected to say just what kinds of beings but he had appreciated her diplomatic description. It seemed to be enough for Cal so he had not felt the need to correct her.

"I still think we should split up into two groups," said Phil. "One group keeps going on and see what this address is leading us to and the other with me."

"Where are you going?" asked Cal.

Durus and he had grinned together knowingly.

"The library of course," answered Phil as if it should be obvious.

He had known right away that it would be best to separate himself from Stella. So that left going to the address with Cal and since Durus would not let Cal out of his sights, that meant he had come along also. Which meant that Stella had gone with Phil ahead to the library. Even yet knowing that he would see her again, in less than an hour's time, he found himself stopping to look at her before they had separated. Not a brief parting glance either. A long, lingering stare that was completely unnecessary and undeniably vital all at once. She had returned his look with a guarded one of her own. It was right for her to be wary and confused about him. He was half out of his mind because of her. Perhaps if she knew just how conflicted he was about her, she would laugh at him. That would be a welcome reprieve to this relentless intensity that he felt for her. Her laughter would wound him to the point where he would refrain from being so obvious in his regard. A part of him wished that Cal would joke about it and tease him, if only to lessen this tight tension mounting every minute that he fought against his impulse to grab Stella. Yet, Cal had remained uncharacteristically mute on the subject and Stella, he knew already, would never laugh at him. It would have to be his own lessening control to compel him to action. In the end, he had, had to make himself look away from her to follow behind Cal and Durus.

Once he was a safe distance away from her, he felt able to concentrate a bit better. He had wondered if his presence was as distracting to her as hers was to him. Not that he was incapable of thought when she was around. He was incapable of thoughts that did not revolve around her. Being in an unfamiliar place had helped to distract his mind enough away from her that he could at least enjoy the outing. It had been more than a little amusing to watch Cal and Durus interact with each other in a series of taunts and half hearted disputes. He had listened with half an ear as they walked. The rest had been on the new world around them.

Glacies was a place with sharp, stinging air that left your skin dry and raw when you walked about the outside. Even more so after such a fierce storm as they had just encountered. The pavement was more white than the usual dark grey and people walked with heavy woolen coats and animal skinned boots. To say that the three of them had attracted attention with their obviously foreign clothes would be an understatement. People stopped to stare at them. Vendors had shouted prices that he knew were exuberant and children openly gawked at them as they passed. It was a busy city but one that obviously did not see very many outsiders. Much like Nihilsomno in a way, only their lack of foreigners were not from government restriction but severe climate and a remote location.

It had not taken long to realize they had a bit of a problem in finding their destination. He had never given much thought to the importance of having street signs until there were none. As they had looked around dumbly in search of any sort of sign, they had realized with a certain amount of stunned surprise that there were no signs to be found anywhere. None of the long winding streets had them. Streets was also a relative term as well. They were not exactly streets persay. Some were paved but most were not. There was a short amount of distance between each side of structures. They were broader than a walkway but not quite broad enough to fit a car and with the obvious neglect in maintenance, trying to get a car through would not have been wise anyway. After a certain amount of struggle, yelling from Cal and growling from Durus, they had been able to figure out that location names were based off landmarks. In their case, it had been "Statua" and after some more disagreements, they had finally found themselves in front of a small monument that could have been considered a statue at one time. Perhaps a time that amounted to an age ago. There were legs where a body would have been held upright but it was all that remained. As he had been paying half attention to the things they passed, he had deduced that they were going the right way at last. He had not recalled passing anything else that could have been called a statue.

A thorough sweep of that "street" had turned up rather fruitless. Not entirely so since they could confirm that this was indeed a dead end but also, Cal had managed to get himself into a scuffle with some of the locals about their deplorable hygiene when one had inadvertently dumped some murky water a foot away from him. Murky water had turned out to be something far more foul that would go without a name and it was with a certain amount of amusement when he had taken hold of Cal's arm to keep the blonde haired man from introducing a bulky local to the butt of his rifle.

"These snow boots are new!" complained Cal angrily as he was dragged away from the little crowd that had gathered to watch.

"And I thought we attracted trouble wherever we went," commented Durus with a roll of his eyes while Cal had continued to rail against unhygienic locals in very colorful terms.

"Now we do not need to feel guilty about placing him in danger," he had responded with a smirk.

Finally, Durus had grabbed Cal by the cuff of his collar and hauled him completely away. While the altercation had taken place he had done a quick sweep of the area with his mind to make sure that they had not missed anything. He had not sensed anything out of the ordinary. There had not even been lingering traces in the air. The majority of the structures were decrepit and uninhabitable on that street so there really had not been much to search through anyway. It had been one of the more seedy parts of the town from what he gathered as they had been walking along. In the end they had just retraced their steps and found themselves where they had started in the first place.

The library was easily reachable. The street had simply been called, "Bibiotheca." It was also the finest structure he had seen within the rugged city. Not only a library, but the town hall, treasury and just about everything else. As soon as he had seen it, he had noted the many similarities between Glacies' library and the one back in Tenebrae. Though not an exact replica, there were certain distinct features within the design that only the same architect would repeat. It was something that he had often noticed in the many high rises in Nihilsomno. Certain design patterns and lines within the base of the structure were like an artist's signature upon a painted canvas. Only one that looked closely would notice such a thing, but those that did, could appreciate the work.

"It's like all the tax money goes into this place," commented Cal with that usual look of easy bewilderment.

"I would have to agree," he had said as the three of them had taken a moment to observe the lone building worth looking at amid the many crumbling ones around it. Not that it had been in tip top shape either. It was just that it had fared better as time had passed.

"It seems out of place," commented Durus with a shake of his head.

Within the walls of the building were many upon many rows of books. It had surprised him that marble had been used in the interior as well as in the exterior. Marble, when other buildings were made of such inferior quality materials. Large columns held it up to tall heights but he could see that where once was a glass ceiling had been changed to something more durable to withstand the weather. He had found it odd that the designer had not thought of something like that when planning the building materials to be used. It had begged the question of whether the conditions outside had always been that way or had something astronomical occurred to change the very weather patterns of the area.

There had been no heat within those stone walls and the dust upon the books was thick from neglect. It reflected the city outside these walls. How people could have survived like this had been amazing to him. Adaptation was a skill that he could admire. For it meant the acceptance of change and he was very much for change. A heavy draft flowed through the empty, dusty halls and had created a whistling sound as they went in search of Phil and Stella among the many shelves. There had been no librarian or any sort of attendant. The people here obviously had no use for books. They passed old weather beaten paintings and worn statues until he had heard Stella and Phil converse before he had even seen them.

"It cannot be coincidence that they look similar," he had heard her say.

"I don't think so either," Phil had agreed as they had turned the corner and seen them.

Both Stella and Phil had looked up and greeted them as they made their approach.

"Anything?" asked Phil.

"Nothing!" cried Cal before he or Durus could answer. "And what did I get for my troubles? Nasty stains on my new boots!"

Stella had given Cal a patient look before she had giggled behind her hand.

"How did everyone else's boots fare?" she had asked him and Durus in a voice that was both serious and teasing.

"Fine," he had answered with amusement.

"Of course!" cried Cal. "I know they were purposely aiming at me because they thought I wouldn't do anything."

"It was an accident," Durus had explained.

"Accident?!"

"You shall just have to bare the stain, Cal," admonished Stella. "Sit down. This is going to take awhile."

"How long?"

Longer than Cal would have ever expected, he is sure. The archives were in such a damaged state that Phil had been unable to recover most of the information. There would be fragments and pieces of data that he had begun trying to piece together. Of course it took longer than anyone like Cal could stand to wait. So it was not long before Cal was leaning back so far on his chair precariously balancing himself on one leg while the other laid against the table they were sitting at.

"Oh gawd!" cried Cal as he fought another yawn. "Just how long are we going to be stuck in this freezer?"

"When I am done," muttered Phil in reply.

"You know you could do something useful like helping to look," said Durus, who had been leafing through an old tome.

"I'm not here to study up on things that I wouldn't understand in the first place," complained Cal. "I signed up for the adventure and fighting part."

"And all you have had to fight so far has been the locals," commented Phil without taking his eyes away from his screen.

"That guy was asking to be introduced to my longsword," responded Cal with a tap of his rifle.

"Is that why you carry it around all the time?" asked Durus. "You think of that as a sword?"

"It's a clever nickname, Scar face," answered Cal.

"Sounds like you're over compensating for something else," Durus countered.

"What?!"

He had gotten up from his seat then to avoid the conflict that he knew was going to explode. A quick glance at Phil and he knew that Phil understood. He had just felt sorry that Phil would have to endure witnessing it by himself. It was a good enough excuse to leave because he had feeling restless himself. Idleness was not something that he could withstand for too long. The impulse to get up had been fought long enough anyway. He had just been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get up so that he could see what Stella was doing. She had disappeared some time earlier to roam the shelves of books in search of a section she had been discussing with Phil. He had been eager to rush after her but had remained in order not to be too obvious.

With the argument going into full swing behind him, he slowly walked along the many rows of bookcases. He had finally come across her in between the shelves. She had not been looking at a row of books but at a broken statue against the wall instead.

"It must have been beautiful," she had commented, keeping her eyes on the damaged stone.

It was when he had stood beside her that he realized that it had been two figures entwined in a passionate embrace. Only, they did not have their arms nor their faces. It looked as if it had been purposely destroyed in a fit of rage.

"I wonder what happened," he had said. It had looked incomplete. Their chests had been pressed together but it was unclear if they had been in an eternal kiss when they had been beheaded. It had occurred him that looking at such a scene with Stella had not been a very good idea. Before he knew it, his eyes had moved to her mouth.

"The people here keep to themselves," she said, not seeming to know where his thoughts had gone. "When they had seen what our destination had been they had fled from us. This place was open and it is clear that no one comes inside. It is like they fear it."

"Something is here," he said.

"You feel it too?" she had asked, finally turning to look at him.

He nodded. "I cannot find the source though."

It had been her turn to nod.

"I checked for the books regarding the people responsible for building this place and parts of Tenebrae. They are missing."

"Missing?" he had asked with a frown.

"They look... I will have to show you for you to understand," she said gesturing with her hand for him to follow her.

They had gone to a far end of the library before she pointed to a few empty spots upon the shelves.

"See?" she had asked, raising to the tips of her toes to look.

He had fought the urge to put his hands on her waist to steady her before he had moved to stand beside her instead and looked at what she had been trying to show him.

"The layers of dust are not as thick where someone slid the books off the shelf," she pointed out.

She had been right. Though not recent, someone had removed all the books that had mentioned or had described the mysterious group that they were trying to find out more about.

"This cannot be coincidence," she had said.

"I agree."

"Did you notice the design of this building?" she asked.

He had been surprised at her mention of it. Though he had wondered if she would notice something like that, he had not tried to ask her.

"It shares the same creator as the one in Tenebrae," he answered.

She had smiled at him. A warm and inviting smile that had him yearning to lean in closer to her as they already stood so close to each other.

"Yes," she had breathed and he could almost feel it on his chin as he looked down at her. "I am glad I am here."

"Are you?" he asked as his eyes had ventured towards her lips again.

"I would not have believed all this if I had stayed in Tenebrae," she answered, taking a breathe and leaning away from him. The move reminded him of when he needed to step away from _her_ so that _he_ could concentrate. "I want to be here to see who is responsible."

That she should have as much trouble as he when they were so close made him want to smile. It only seemed fair that she should suffer just a little bit too.

"Hey Noct! Stella!" called Phil. His voice had echoed in the stillness of the moment they had been sharing. "I think I managed to salvage something!"

The frustration and relief on Stella's face had matched his own, when he watched the different expressions fly across her face. He does not think he would have kissed her then, but he was beginning to crave her closeness too much to be considered normal. With a short sigh and a smirk, he had gestured for her to proceed him to begin their way back to their party. It had not been possible to walk beside her through the bookcases so he had walked behind her instead. He wonders what would have happened if he had been too distracted with walking with her heat beside him to have noticed a sharper draft hit his arm as he walked past a tattered tapestry.

Stella had not stopped and had not seemed to notice that he was no longer right behind her as he paused to feel that gust of frozen air again. There was that hint of something again. Something different this time but the essence was the same. However good it had been at hiding before, the wind seemed to carry its energy with it. Which meant that the origins of the draft were the same as the thing itself. He had not even thought to alert the others before he moved closer to the ruined artwork and pulled it aside.

It had revealed a partially obscure door, carved within the marble of the wall. There was no handle but once he had poised his hand to slide it along the edges, it had slide open for him. Without any hesitation he had stepped through the door way and into the dark passage when the door slide shut behind him.

"Noct!" Phil had called. His voice had been static in his ear.

"I found a door," he had answered. "I seem to be stuck inside a passage."

"Where is the door?"

"Behind a battered old tapestry," was his answer. There was no way to tell them which one considering he had not been able to decipher what had been woven within it to begin with.

He had felt another cold gust of wind again and this time the presence had been stronger. A banging on the other side of the door alerted him to the arrival of the rest of his party.

"Where the frak is the door knob?" Cal had yelled.

"How did you open it?" asked Stella.

"It opened of its own volition," he had answered. "I am going to check this out."

"Maybe you should wait," suggested Cal.

"We do not know how long it will take for you to get that door open and I cannot stand here and wait for you to figure it out," he answered. "The Crystal might be down this way and I am going to retrieve it."

"Don't have all the fun without us!" cried Cal.

"Is that all you're worried about?" hissed Durus.

"I am going," he said before they could get into another argument.

He took another step away from the door and ventured further into the deep darkness before him. His eyes shifted to red as he continued on his way with confident steps forward within the blackness. It was not long before he had reached a flight of steep stairs and had quickly teleported to the bottom. There was the distinct sound of dripping water and it had him referring back to that image of the stone room below Tenebrae. Would the water glow the same blue? He could feel the presence of the Crystal now and he felt the other presence. That other presence that had blocked the connection between him and what was his. He had followed that trail and could feel the Crystal leading him closer.

It had felt like a trap. He had known it must have been a trap, but he could not have foreseen just how bad things would get once he caught sight of both the white robed figure and the Crystal.

"Not early and not late, but right on time," the figure spoke.

"What do you want with my Crystal?"

"I want many things, Prince Noctis," answered the figure behind a deep hood. "I want the downfall of your dynasty and the end of Nihilsomno."

"So you think to destroy the Crystal?"

"This," he had gestured. "Is already dying. What good would it be to harm it now?"

"Then why did you take it?" he had demanded.

"Did they tell you nothing?" taunted the figure and it is then that he had seen a glimpse of familiar red from underneath the hood. "The Crystal itself is useless."

"I do not believe you," he said. The Crystal was everything.

"No, my ignorant Prince," answered the figure with a shake of its head. "The Crystal can only work now because of you."

He frowned even as he felt a dawning sense of dread. That had been why not all the lights in Nihilsomno had shut off when the Crystal had been taken out of the city. That had been why Legatus had so adamantly tried to keep him within the borders of the city. He had known.

"Do you see now?" asked the figure in a knowing voice. "You are the power behind this last Crystal and I shall use the both of you to my benefit."

Before he could even ponder the meaning of those words he had felt it. A slow vapid heat that had begun to spread in veins that had previously been cold. He had looked and seen the Crystal glowing an angry red even as he heard it cry out for him. His hands had begun to tremble as they had suddenly become too hot to bear before his equally scorching legs failed. He had stumbled to the ground as the heat spread to every part within him to burn him from the inside out. He could not even choke out a breath. The blood flowing in his veins felt like boiling vats and he could almost smell the burning of his flesh. It had almost been a physical feeling when his thoughts were pushed far back into the recesses of his consciousness.

When his arms had moved again, he had not been the one that commanded them to do so. Hands that had just been trembling were steady as they made to help the rest of his body rise. He had felt as one would feel within a dream. Aware and conscious of things happening but as someone else looking in. His body had not been moving because he willed it. It had been so much worse than when he could not control himself around Stella. This was even worse than the control that he had fought against the Concilium. This had been someone else entirely. It had been the robed figure standing over him that was causing his own body to move while he was being pushed away with unimaginable pain and heat. This was the ultimate insult. His anger had swelled up within him enough to rival the heat that burned him and pushed. His mind had railed in defiance as his will shot forth to break out of the heated hold that had entrapped him.

Not again. Never again. I Will Not Be Controlled!

A desperate gasp echoes in the hollow room as he feels the heat subside and he can breathe again. He does not remember how the room had suddenly turned blue and he has to pause a moment to let the pounding in his ears ease before he realizes that he is now alone. Then the adrenaline of a moment ago drains completely from his limbs and the aftershocks of his pain has him stumbling back down to his knees. Barely managing to prevent his face from smashing against the unforgiving floor he tries to focus on taking in his next breath.

"Noctis!" cries a voice. A voice that tells him that there is help coming. A voice that makes him feel something else besides the pain.

He feels gentle hands take hold of his shoulders before delicate fingers touch his face. Her arms surround him and he can feel her gentle presence surrounds him. But he needs to see her. He needs to behold the vision of her face with his eyes. Summoning enough strength he manages to open weary red eyes to stare into her blue ones. "What happened?"

He cannot answer that. There is no strength within him to answer that. All he can manage is another breath before his eyes close as he loses consciousness and falls into the unfamiliarity of slumber.

* * *

End Note: In a completely random, bizarre twist of fate, FFN gave me scareware yesterday at work. I can't even begin to tell you how badly I would have reacted if it had happened on my home computer. Fortunately it had been at work where the IT guy was very helpful and had to reprogram my entire work profile (which was not fun considering I was computerless at work for more than two hours). In light of this, I may or may not be posting the remainder of Adventum here. Please check back on my Profile as that will let you know what I decide. So, if you do not see an update of this for longer than five days, check my Profile to see what's happening.


	9. Dormito

A/N: This chapter is shorter than the previous ones and I think that is why it came out faster. Four updates in one week. Woohoo! I am not sure if I mentioned this already but Adventum is only meant to be twelve chapters. Which means that there are only two real chapters before the Epilogue. Depending on how things go, it might be extended to one more chapter but as it stands, it will still be twelve.  
I also want to add that Adventum is my last multichapter. If the continuation to Eclipse does not happen, it will also be my last Versus story. Adventum is supposed to be my farewell to the Versus archive.

Dormito is Latin for "to be dreaming".

**_Chapter Nine: Dormito_**

Lightning flashes across a cloudy sky. The resounding boom of thunder shakes the earth. No rain falls, but he can see the falling waters not far away. A storm is just about to unleash its full potential. There is a tingle of unbridled energy that charges the air. Far off into the distance, there are mountains of wild terrain, yet where he stands, there is nothing but flat ground. There is nothing and there is no one. He is alone. All alone to face the raging storm above. He does not bend and he does not cow as lightning blasts around him. The hair on his neck stands on end as the energy comes too close. Thunder pounds like a beating drum that makes the ground beneath him tremble. Yet he stands his ground. One, large drop of rain strikes his forehead and he turns his head upwards to glare at the heavens. He spies the sheet of rain as it rushes for him and he opens his arms out wide to welcome the rush of water upon his body.

As droplets beat against his face and slide along the length of his body, he can almost believe that it had the power to wash away his sins. To wash away all those times that he fell short of his mark. To wash away all those times that he had failed to be what he knew _they_ had wanted him to be. The _they_ that were no more, yet lived only within his memory. The _they_ that he had loved so much in life and even moreso in death. Though, their memories often brought forth more pain than comfort when recalled. For what he had _taken_ from them. For what he had _stolen_ from them, to emerge to be the blackness that he had grown to be. He wishes this water could do it. He wishes it could absolve him of what he had done. He wishes he could feel it wash away.

The portion of cloud just above him opens to expose the clear sky above. Blue eyes open to stare up at the sun as a few of its rays reached down to engulf him in light. Then slowly, the moon shifts beside the sun. Both their lights combine to shine upon him together in a mix of white and gold.

_Night cannot be without day, as day cannot be without night._

He feels cold whiteness and warm brightness upon his face and feels the contrasts of night and day. Then the moon dissolved before his eyes and instinctively he knew. He knew, even before he looked at his hands, that he was the night. It was he that represented the cold whiteness of the moon. When he looked up again he watched as the sun had begun to dissolve. The warmth of its light disappeared from his face and his eyes lowered to see the figure that had come to represent it on the ground.

"Stella," his voices comes out as a whisper as he stares at her bathed in golden light.

The winds pick up and carries the rain as it pushes her hair back away from her glowing face. They were like the sun and the moon. She was the day to his night. He was the night to her day. They could not be without each other. Two powerful forces that could only exist because of the other. His night would be complete darkness if not for the reflection of her day. Within the blackness of the night, the moon shed forth her light to captivate their world. Yet they were as different as could be possible.

The night did not deserve the day, as he did not deserve her.

"Noctis," she calls, beckoning him closer. Her voice is a lullaby within a static of sound and it almost sways him. He almost runs to her.

Looking down he sees how large the chasm is between them. It was too deep. It was too wide. He could not have reached her. He knew he would never reach her. Not with the deep void of doubt, distrust and deceit between them. There was no basis to bridge this gap and all he is left to do is stare at her with all the longing that dwelt within himself. The longing that grew each time he looked at her. The longing that strengthened each time she allowed him close to her. The longing that intensified each time he was denied her touch. There was no possibility to meet, even halfway. No matter how much he wanted her. It all came down to a choice that he has yet to reconcile with. It was to risk the plunge or stay his ground and remain alone.

"But what is the night if it does not have the light of the moon?" she asks.

A light which was not possible without her sun.

"An impasse," he replies.

They both already knew it to be so.

"You risk too little and yet expect too much," she says.

Before he can reply, she vanishes from the other side of the void and he chokes out a cry at the loss. Arms reach out to where she had just been but it is too late. She is already gone.

A loud gasp escapes his lips as he shoots to sit up. Blue eyes only show blurry vision as he grasps for the reality against the dream. Pain rips through his muscles and his vision goes white.

"Noctis!" her voice cries and he makes out her silvery form amidst the blur. "Phil!"

It almost looks as if she tries to reach for him, but he has already fallen back to lie on the bed and feels himself slip away to sleep once again.

Cold stones make echoing sounds as he walks through hollow halls. Lanterns are lit. Incense is burned. Prayers are spoken. Hushed rooms that know nothing but the emptiness of death. He hates this place. He hates the sight, the smell and the sound of it. It is a place often revisited yet always despised. Unsympathetic faces accompany the harsh reality of loss. There would be no more warmth. There would be no more affection. There would be nothing. Just a hole where fullness had been. No, there were two holes. Two holes where they had been within his heart. Now they are swallowed by two holes formed in the dirt. Two voids in a small heart that would never feel the fullness of their love again. A wide gap that was filled with the emptiness of the dark instead.

Rain mixes with flowing tears as the cold sinks in. The cold that had never left and still remains. Water seeps into black clothes and causes shivers as he stands alone and stares at the new fresh graves before him. Mourners do not linger and none acknowledge his small form. Then, two small hands reach the line of his vision and two lilies make it into his hands. He lifts his eyes to meet the stunning blue eyes of another. Those two orbs of swirling ocean held unshed tears as though she felt his sadness too. She is gone too quickly for him to fully grasp that she had really been there. Her blond hair had been a shining beacon against a mass of darker tones. It had almost felt like she had been a vision of sympathy amid a crowd of tall, distant figures. They all leave until there is only him and the two graves. Legs wobble but knees do not give in as he stands there wondering why. Then he feels a shadow as the fall of the rain stops. He looks up and startles to find an umbrella over his head and turns to see the one who held it.

"You might want to get dry," comments the boy with glasses as he holds the handle of the umbrella tight.

"Philologus! Get over here!" shouts an angry man not far away.

"But he's wet!"

"Stay away from him!"

The boy blinks down at him for a moment in hesitation, before handing him the umbrella and hurrying off. He stands there and does not really comprehend this change. First a vision of blond hair and blue eyes and now this boy with an umbrella. He had been the only one to speak directly to him. The only one beside the golden haired vision with flowers that had shown any sort of kindness. He looks down at the white flowers in his one hand and watches mesmerized as water trickles through the white petals. Then he looks at the umbrella in his other hand. Hands that had previously been empty are now full. He cannot think of how this had happened. Maybe, he was not as alone as he had thought.

It is a dawning horror that fills him as the umbrella and the flowers dissolve right out of his hands. They melt down to the ground that is no longer green. The scenery too, blurs away to change into something else. It shifts to a time even more dreaded than the one he has just left. He is there again. Flashes of blue and a white light. The first glimpse of the light above that taunted him with its existence. How he had wished that he could have died that day. How he could have died with them so that he would not have lived to know what it was like without them. Their bodies at his feet and the cold fear of realization as it sinks in. He has never forgotten that feeling. It was like a wound that never healed and would open fresh as the day it was inflicted. With each day that had passed, with each opening of that wound, he had felt warmth escape him to leave only the hollowness of loss behind. Until he became what he was now. A dead night that knew nothing else but others that were just as dead.

That is, until now. Now the deadened night burned for the life brought forth from the golden sun. A night that no longer felt so dead. In this was the balance. In this was how things could finally become aligned. Only, the night did not know if it wanted to risk itself. To risk that plunge into the void to reach the day.

Red eyes open and dissolve quickly into blue as consciousness finally returns and the world comes back in startling clarity. Muffled sounds become distinct as he turns his head to stare at the figure sitting beside the bed.

"At last," she breathes in a sigh of relief. As she leans in to stare closely into his face, he can feel the tips of her hair brush against his arm. A gentle, relieved smile graces her lips as her eyes roam his face. "Are you all right?"

No answers comes forth as he stares at her between slow blinks. The light is just behind her and shines as a halo around her golden mane. The picture brings back the vision of his dreams. Of her as the sun as they stood facing each other with the void between them. Was the void so wide now?

"Stella," his voice whispers through dry lips.

Her eyes close and he can almost feel her shiver above him. He wishes he could touch her face. He would have, but his arms feel like dead weights beside him. His body has never felt this sore before. Even a slight shift caused a pain to shoot through his back in response. His chest is not capable of deep breathes but he feels breathless as he stares up at her. He watches as her eyes reopen and focus back on his. She moves to touch him but that is when another figure enters the room.

"Noct, you're awake!" cries Cal.

The loud sound shakes sensitive ears as he fights a cringe of pain. He hears the rush of feet and soon sees the faces of his lifelong friends.

"Noct, you all right?" asks Phil as he blinks at him behind his glasses.

"I have felt better," he states as he closes his eyes briefly.

"You've been sleeping for awhile," states Durus with some hesitation.

"How long?"

"A day," answers Phil, reaching behind him to prop the bed up so that he is sitting.

A day? His eyes fly open in surprise.

"Probably making up for all the days you don't sleep," comments Cal.

"Where are we?" he asks.

"We are on our way to Tenebrae," answers Phil with a tense look about him that seems like a warning to him. "We should be there in about six hours."

"I thought maybe Tenebrae would be better considering you left on such bad terms from Nihilsomno," explains Stella.

Back to Tenebrae seemed more logical. He could use the time to find that mysterious presence again.

"Noct, what happened?" asks Phil.

He has to think about this for a moment. The overwhelming heat caused by his own Crystal and a white, faceless figure.

"Someone has found a way to manipulate the Crystal," he answers slowly. "He tried to control me by using it."

"When you say control," starts Cal. "What do you mean exactly?"

"I mean he tried to control my body," he explains. "He wants the destruction of Nihilsomno and my dynasty."

"Did you recognize him?" asks Stella.

"No," he answers. "I never saw his face."

"This definitely fits with what I found at that library," says Phil.

It takes him longer than it should to remember that Phil had managed to find something at the library before he had been trapped in that corridor.

"When the Crystals had first begun to die, there was a group dedicated to finding a way to preserve them," states Phil. "They are the ones that created the cities. They found something but something happened and all their findings were lost."

"Destroyed," he corrects. "Whatever they found has been used for ill means."

They had found a way to preserve the Crystals all right. His eyes shift to Stella. Her expression is thoughtful and contemplative and a little worried. It is the worried expression that causes a sinking feeling to settle in his already heavy chest. A worry that looked more like guilt. He must have had a strange look on his face because Phil then suggested that everyone leave so that he could get more rest. More commanded than suggested that is. Then had lingered about as everyone else made to leave. Stella had hesitated to leave him but had finally gone and he was alone with Phil in the room.

He watches as Phil walks to shut the door before he starts to speak.

"You found something else," he states to get his friend going.

"Yes, there was more information that I uncovered," Phil answered. "I think whatever these people were doing, they did a lot of terrible things."

"What kind of terrible things?"

"I can't say for sure but I think they used people to test on."

"You think that is why the people in Glacies do not go near the library?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise," says Phil. "I think they used Glacies because they found something up there too."

"What do you think it was?"

"I don't think they ever perfected renewing the dying Crystals," answers Phil. "They couldn't have because only yours still works. I think they found something else up there."

Something else. What else could there possibly be?

"I found an old encrypted file within their archive," explains Phil. "It seems like they were doing a lot digging."

"Digging? Do you think that is why there are such extensive catacomb underneath Tenebrae?"

"Might be why," agrees Phil. "Obviously they didn't find it in Tenebrae but they did find it in Glacies."

"Underneath the city?"

"No, it looks like it was somewhere just outside the city," answers Phil. "There are a lot of mountains nearby. It wouldn't surprise me if it was one of them."

There _had_ been a lot of mountain ranges as they had flown over the landscape. He thinks about the blue glowing water and wonders how that factors in. It is a lot to think about and he already feels too weary to think about it all right now. He manages a shaky breathe as he turns to face the ceiling. Slowly, he manages to ball up his fists to test his body and feels a sense of relief that it is his own will that makes them do so.

Phil clears his throat, making him reopen his eyes to look at him. His friend looks uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"What else have you found?"

"I'm not sure if I should tell you right now. You're still not good."

"I can tell that it is more urgent than what you have already told me," he says. "Tell me."

When Phil still hesitates, he frowns.

"Tell me," he reiterates.

Phil takes a breath and he knows he is not going to like what he is about to hear.

"Since I hadn't finished everything back home, I brought my backup and had it working while I was doing other things on my main machine."

He nods for him to continue.

"One of the things I had running was the damaged video footage from the night the Crystal was taken."

He feels the color drain from his face.

"What did you see?" he asks, even though he dreads the answer.

Phil rests the laptop on his legs and opens the program.

"I only managed to piece together about twenty seconds of footage but..." Phil presses the play button.

The video plays before his eyes quickly and is over too soon. It is quick but not quick enough. His heart is beating so fast it feels as if it may explode within his chest.

"Play it again," he says through gritted teeth because he does not trust his anger.

Phil looks posed to argue but thinks better of it at the look on his face. As it plays again, there is no denying what was there. For right there, on the screen, was Stella taking his Crystal.

* * *

End Notes: My heart was beating so fast when I wrote this ending. I hope yours was too. What is to be done?


	10. Abyssus

A/N: I'm very relieved that it seems everyone forgot about the footage that Phil was working on. It made the impact of the cliffie very dramatic and I was hoping for that. This chapter comes with a warning.

Abyssus is Latin for "chasm or abyss."

_**Chapter Ten: Abyssus**_

A cold, trembling fury filled with the gut wrenching effects of betrayal. That was what this feels like. He does not think he has ever been so angry in his entire life. He does not think it possible that he could have felt this betrayed if she had stabbed him in the back with her rapier. Yes, he now knew her weapon of choice. She had held it in her hand when she had swiped at an invisible barrier to get at the Crystal before snatching it in her delicate hands. It was not that she had taken it. It was not that she had been lying to him all this time. He had trusted in those things. He had known those things. It had always been a second thought in his mind. No, it was that she had stolen it and given it to that figure that he had vowed to kill. It was that she was in league with the same fiend that had declared war against him and had sought to control him. Who had tried to use his own body against him. She had aided in this. She had been responsible and had twisted her way inside him. She had made him feel where he had thought he was dead. Most infuriating of all was that he had _let_ her do it. He had willfully fallen into her clutches and allowed her to remain by his side. He was such a fool.

Muscles screamed in protest as he got onto his feet. Strained tendons were forced to stretch as he takes pounding steps towards the door and throws it open.

"Noct, I don't think..." says Phil, running after him.

"Get us off this course," he growls through clenching teeth.

"Where are we going?"

"Nihilsomno."

"But..."

"I want her there," he orders, making his way into the hallway.

The pounding pressure in his head matches the pounding in his chest as he makes his way to find her.

"You really shouldn't be…"

"Hey, what the … Noct, what are you doing up?" asks Cal as he comes into the hallway.

"Where is Stella?" he manages to bite out.

"Woah, calm down there," says Cal, reaching out to help but he moves away before he can.

"Noct," says Phil just behind him. "You have to wait. Don't do anything impulsive."

"What's going on?" asks Cal.

"Where Is Stella?" he demands again.

"Noctis?"

He whirls around at the sound and sees her standing just outside the door to her cabin. She looks confused and above all, concerned. Her concern makes him even angrier. Before anyone can blink, he is standing right in front of her and forcing her back into her cabin.

"Noct!" Cal and Phil shout at the same time as he kicks the door shut behind them.

His legs feel heavy and his head is throbbing, but he manages to stumble on top of Stella on the bed. His rune activates, causing the entire cabin to glow blue before he uses his broad sword to jam against the door to prevent the others from breaking in. Then pins her wrists beside her head as he leans down to glare into her face.

"Clever girl," he whispers menacingly as his fingers press tightly against her wrists. "What did you plan to do once we got to Tenebrae? Capture me? Use me to get inside my own city and destroy it?"

"What are you talk…?"

But he interrupts her. "You never denied that you were responsible. You never denied that you had not taken it. Deny it now," he challenges her as he shoves at her wrists. "Deny it right now so I have a reason to slit your treacherous throat."

Her eyes search his through a frown. He does not want to notice the confusion he sees within them. He does not want to see the worry that is still in her eyes. That worry for him.

"Maybe you should just slit it," she suggests. Her chest is heaving beneath his as she takes panting breathes. "Maybe you should start with my heart instead."

"Do not think to play the noble martyr here!" he hisses vehemently. "It was not noble to tease me. It was not noble to make me crave you. It was not noble to plant yourself so deeply within my mind that there is no room left but to think only of you."

"You think are you are any better?" she whispers as a lone tear escapes from the corner of her eye and he can see how tired she is. "It was you who approached me that night. It was you who had to be so irresistible and addictive. It is you who makes me feel half out of my mind." Her breathing sounds even more erratic as she ends her rant in a high voice.

"Half out of your mind?" he asks her and his tone is deceptively calm.

"I am glad I make you crazy," she says resentfully. "Because then you will feel just as I crazy as I do."

She lifts her head above the mattress, because that is all the movement he will allow her and issues a silent challenge right into his face. He glares right back down at her and his hold on her wrists tighten painfully but she does not back down.

"You strange and fascinating creature," he all but growls just before he forces his lips against hers, pushing her head back against the mattress.

He becomes aware of how her body molds and welcomes his atop her. It unleashes his frustrated wanted as he shows her his own resentment through his lips. Even when he can finally know the feeling of her lips against his, he does not feel satisfied. He wants to taste her mouth and she resists him by keep her lips closed, but she does not try to push his lips from hers. So he slants his mouth and makes her open for him. Then he can finally taste her. Taste after wanting to so obsessively and never being able to before. He can taste her anger as she must be tasting his, but there is something else there too. As he continues to explore her mouth, he feels more of it than her anger. What he feels there frightens him. It, was something too deep and too foreign for him to accept. Something that was only good and pure and everything he was not. Under all her resentment, she still wanted to offer it to him. He could not accept it now and he knows he never can accept it.

With a groan he drags his lips away from her mouth and lowers them to her ear.

"Why?" he whispers and the anger is gone to be replaced with the hurt and disappointment that he feels. "Why, Stella?"

His lips find her neck and slide down, tasting her skin as he goes, before settling just above her heart. He stares at the expanse of skin that covers the thing he finally realizes he has always wanted. What she had been offering to him. Her offering that he can never keep. Bending down, he places a lingering kiss where he knows it steadily beats. His eyes are blue when they look up at hers. He sees the strain her features. There is a bone weary tiredness that had not been there before. He releases her wrists and moves away.

He can tell from her face that she knows what this means. Lifting himself up and away from her, she sits up to follow. He turns his back to her without looking at her again and makes his way to the door.

"Noctis," she calls at his back.

He straightens his back but does not turn around. "You will be tried before the Concilium and surely charged," he says and his voice is devoid of any emotion from before. "They will demand your execution."

He grabs the hilt of his sword and pries it from the door. "You are not to leave this room and your only visitor will be your cousin."

He twists the knob and forces his ears not to hear her as he reenters the hallway and slams the door behind him. There are muffled sounds of cries on the other side and he feels his energy drain away. Leaning heavily against the door, he leans his head back with eyes closed. He takes a breath to try and refocus himself. Kissing her had only made it worse. Impossibly so. The feel of her lips. The taste of her mouth. His hands against the skin of her wrists had felt so warm. Warm in the way that people should be warm. Warm as the sun had felt against his skin. He felt he had taken some of that warmth from her and he was already feeling it subside back into the coldness. She had shivered when he had trailed his lips across her chest. That she should have taken from his cold as he had taken from her warm. To think that he would never be able to take from her again. It did not seem right. It did not seem fair. It did not make any sense.

"Noct?"

He opens his eyes to see Cal standing a few feet away from him and feels even more regret.

"I did not hurt her," he answers before Cal can ask.

"Not physically," says Cal.

"No, not physically," he agrees. He cannot say the same for her emotional state.

"I don't believe it," Cal tells him. "You can't believe it either."

"It does not matter what I believe," he answers. "They will try her and they will kill her."

"Noct, I know this doesn't look good. The evidence is damning, but there's gotta be something else going on," says Cal, coming closer to him.

"There are many things going on," he tells him wearily. "But they will not save her."

Pushing himself away from the door, he starts to make his way back to his room.

"She does not leave her room and only you can visit with her," he says as he passes Cal.

"Noct, you have to do something," pleads Cal.

"What would you have me do?" he asks turning around and looking at Cal. "She has never denied not taking it. I let you both come so that you could prove her innocence but all I find is her guilt. What else would you have me do?"

Cal hesitates because they both know that he has already done more than they could have expected. He let them both into his life and had already given them both a chance.

"I hold no ill will towards you, Cal," he says. "But I know that any camaraderie we may have formed will not hold because of this. You have an obligation to your cousin and I have an obligation to my kingdom. I will make sure that you do not come to harm when we reach Nihilsomno."

"I'm not worried about me," cries Cal. "Are you going to watch Stella die for this? Are you gonna be able to? Aren't you going to feel anything?"

"What you ask me is unfair," he points out flatly. "What kind of a response are you searching for from me?"

Cal shakes his head. "No, you're right. Those aren't fair questions. You've been through a lot."

A lot would be right.

"See to your cousin," he says finally. Turning back around, he starts to make his way back to his cabin. "It is not long before we reach Nihilsomno."

"You really should get some more sleep, Noct."

The suggestion causes him to stop. Concern had been the last thing he was expecting from Cal.

"Maybe we'll all wake up from this nightmare," says Cal and he can almost see him shaking his head behind him.

Stella had shown a fear of them. Cal was showing him his dread of them. Did they really not understand?

"Then you both should have stayed away from me," he answers.

"Why?"

"Do you not know?" he asks turning so that Cal can see the red of his eyes. "I _am_ the nightmare."

It should not have been hard to see. He does not think he ever gave them any illusions to think otherwise. It should be obvious that he was not good. He was not good at all. Cal, with his ever present need to see the positive in any situation, must have simply ignored that. Stella had jumped right into his world of darkness, fully knowing what he was. In her attempt to deceive him, she must have gotten caught within it. For the dark was tempting. He could never deny that it was. It had just never occurred to him that he would be tempting too. Not to someone like her. Now he would send her to be destroyed for it. This was what the darkness did. It ripped you apart. This was the cost to involve yourself with a nightmare.

He stumbles back into his cabin to find Phil waiting for him.

"I did not kill her," he grumbles as he staggers towards the bed.

"No, but I think I'm right when I think she would rather that you had," comments Phil dryly.

"Are you worried for her?" he asks, looking up at his friend.

"I'm worried about you," states Phil.

"I am fine," he bites out, even though his body feels like it wants to tear itself a part from the inside out.

"Doesn't look that way to me," Phil responds.

"What do you want me to do?" he demands angrily. "Do you want me to go back to Stella and forget what she has done? Pretend that she has not betrayed me more than I can bear?"

"Why do you feel so betrayed, Noct? What is Stella to you?"

He has to bite back the words that immediately come to mind. Stella was to him what the sun was to the moon. Just like his dream had said she was. He knew now, why he wanted her so much and now he saw the abyss between them. The chasm that was too wide and too deep for him to have her. It was a leap that he would not take to get her.

"That's what I thought," says Phil with a shake of his head.

"Are you disappointed?" he asks almost annoyed.

"No, I'm just thinking about what a mess this is," answers Phil, adjusting his glasses.

"Like my whole life has been," he mutters.

"You might want to get washed," Phil suggests, matter of factly. His glass covered eyes look at his. It reminds him of when he had handed him the umbrella so long ago.

"Do I smell?"

"No, but you always did feel better after a shower," Phil comments.

"You _are_ worse than a mother," he grumbles, rubbing his face in irritation.

"Yeah well maybe you need someone to hackle you sometimes," Phil answers. "Besides, you don't want the Legatus' first glimpse of you to be a pouty, heartbroken kid but the Prince who returned after finding the thief of the Crystal."

What should have been good news, was not. It made him angry and it made him feel hollow. Hollow in a way he had not felt in a very long time. He does feel like a pouty child who had just had his heart broken, just as he had then.

"Phil, I have a rather stupid question to ask," he says.

"I like stupid questions," states Phil. "Because then I can give stupid answers."

He can almost smirk at that.

"Do you really think she did it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

He watches as Phil sighs deeply and shakes his head again.

"Take your shower, Noct," says Phil with a sigh. Never one to give in to sentimentality. "You'll have a clearer head afterwards. We don't have that much time until we reach home."

Sometimes it bothered him that his friends knew him so well. If not Phil, Durus would have most assuredly pointed out that he take a shower to ease his mind. Sometimes it was the both of them telling him what was good for him. The only two that he does not really mind, though he puts a show of annoyance when they do. The shower did do him a bit of good. It always brought him a sense of peace to feel the water flow down his body. To feel his body being cleansed, he can almost believe that it was cleansing more than just his physical self. If only guilt could be washed away as easily as dirt. Then maybe he would be someone else. Someone who was not a nightmare. Someone who was not what evil connected with. Someone who was not one of the frightening things in the dark.

Wiping the moisture from the foggy mirror, he leans in to stare into his own eyes and finds that they are still red. It reminds him of the red he saw beneath the hood of that white figure. The pain and the fight for control that had followed. He had fought it and he had sensed its surprise. He had felt its surprise at being fought off as it had been. It had been expecting to overtake him easily but it had been wrong. The man was good, very good at his powers of manipulation. But he had not been good enough and he should have known why. If the man had done his research as meticulously as he must have he should have known he would not have overpowered him easily. The man should have known he would fight him. So why had he seemed so surprised when his attempt had failed?

His thoughts go to Stella next. He thinks of her words and the taste of her mouth. It was the taste of what it would have been like if he were a good man. The taste showed him of what it would mean to be alive and whole. In her kiss he had felt what it would have been like to have those gaping holes filled where _they_ had left him. She had offered him hope, even when she had accused him of driving her out of her mind. Which meant that she resented her feelings towards him. As much as he resented his feelings towards her. Yet even with that resentment, he had felt her offering her heart to him. Offering her heart to one who had none. What more precious gift could one bestow upon another? So why, why had she taken his Crystal and given it to that villain? He would have felt her lies when she spoke them. He would have sensed her deceit every time he looked at her. Had his own desire have shielded him from seeing this? Had he been too wrapped up in his own crazed impulses to realize that she had been lying? No, she had not been lying. Her fight to keep him from entering her mouth had not been from lack of desire. It had been stubborn refusal against her own want and his.

It did not make any sense. The feeling strikes him so suddenly then has him almost collapsing into the sink. His knuckles are white as they clench the sides of the metal to stop himself from becoming overwhelmed. It was a cry. A cry like he had heard from the Crystal when it had been taken. A cry that he could feel deep within himself.

"Stella," he says, before he feels the dread creep in and he is out the door in a flash.

He barrels down the hallway as Durus comes off pilot duty.

"Noct?"

"Stella!" he shouts as he shoulders his way through the door of her cabin. The door slams against the wall from his force and he feels his heart pounding in his chest.

The sounds of heavy footfalls behind him come to a stop directly at his back.

"Noct, what the...?" asks Phil but stops when he sees the state of the room.

"I don't care what you say but I put this thing on auto because you guys shouldn't be near my cou... Stella? Where is she?!" shouts Cal behind them. "We've got to search the ship!"

"You will not find her," he answers darkly without turning around. "They are already gone."

The lamp beside the bed is broken on the floor. The glass of the bulb is shattered. It looked as if it had been thrown. The bed sheets are all askew. As if she had been dragged from it. What disturbed him the most was not the struggle that must have happened, but the words that had been written on the wall.

"What does that mean?" Cal asks angrily behind him. "And how the frak did someone sneak in here to kidnap Stella?"

"Adventum Aduro," he answers, paying careful attention to what the words were written with. They had been carved by something that was both sharp and fragile. There was only one thing he could think of that was used. His Crystal. "The second coming of the light."

"How is it that you both didn't know he was here?" asks Phil.

"You mean Stell knew he was here and she didn't...?"

"No, Cal," he says turning around to look at him. He shakes his head. "Stella did not know he was here and I was too weak to notice."

"If she didn't know then that means that she... that still doesn't explain why she took the Crystal," says Durus.

"She never took the Crystal," says Phil as if he can read the answer from his face.

"Okay, I'm a little confused here," says Cal. "You have footage that she took it. What are you talking about?"

"While Stella physically did take the Crystal, she did not do so of her own free will," he explains.

"You mean someone threatened her?" asks Cal.

"He has control of her," he says in a small voice. "He wanted to control me but realized that he could not overpower me. So he took the one that he could."

"You're saying he wants the both of you?"

He nods as he looks back at the words written on the wall.

"Why?" asks Phil.

"Adventum Aduro is the second coming of the light," he explains. "The first time the light came, the Crystals were formed."

"He's seeking to create a new world order," finishes Phil as he finally understands.

"What does that have to do with you and Stella?" demands Cal.

"I am the moon and Stella is the sun," he answers. "Together we can bring the second coming."

"But since he has to control you both, that means that he's forcing something before it's meant to happen," finishes Phil. "He could end up destroying the planet."

"Well, then we saved ourselves one problem since he can't control you," says Cal. "Right?"

Always looking on the brighter side of things. Perhaps if things did not look so grave, he might have smiled at that.

"But what makes you so powerful and Stella not? You've always shown you have more power than her."

He has never had to openly tell someone why before. Phil and Durus already knew and it was never something that they talked about. He has never even said the words out loud.

Phil sees his hesitation. "You know that when you've had a near death experience you can see the light."

"Yeah."

"So you know that when that happens, you risk someone's life to gain power."

"Are you telling me that someone died and Noct got better powers?" asks Cal, turning to look at him as if with new eyes.

"Not just one, two," he corrects.

Cal gaps in horror at this. His next question is asked quietly. "Did you know the two that died?"

"Yes," he answers and he takes a deep breath before he continues. "I killed my parents for it."

"You didn't actually kill your parents," corrects Durus.

"I _did_ kill my parents," he presses. "If not for me, they would still be alive."

"You didn't kill them, Noct," presses Phil.

"You would not have thought so if you had not been there," he snaps. Then he turns his glare towards Cal. "Do you still think that I am a good man? That is why he cannot control me. It is because I am more evil than he is."

"No, I don't believe that," says Cal with a shake of his head. "If you were really so evil you wouldn't have hesitated killing Stella just now. He wouldn't have to try to take over your body if you were so bad."

He frowns at Cal because he cannot believe how stubborn he was. Even confessing to him that he had been the one that killed his own parents, this man could look him in the eye and tell him that he was not wicked. He looks up at Phil and Durus and he is surprised at them as well. All this time and they had not blamed him when everyone else had?

"So where is he going?" asks Cal instead.

There is a pause as he looks at Cal with his own look of bafflement.

"You really look too positively on things," he comments and he is uncertain whether he means this as a compliment or not. He watches the grin that appears on Cal's face and he knows that he will never understand this man's optimism. "The only place close by is Nihilsomno. He will take Stella there."

He pushes through them to get back to his room. They were not far from the city and he needed to make sure that he was ready.

"Noct, are you going to be able to face him so soon?" asks Phil from behind him.

He does not answer as he makes his way into his room and closes the door. His mind was a whirlwind of chaos that he needed to stabilize. He needs to grip onto what he knows as fact. Stella was taken against her will, which means that she was not entirely under the figure's spell, but she can be overtaken by him. Which meant that she had not taken the Crystal because she had wanted to. He wonders if she had been conscious of the fact that she had taken it. Perhaps that was why he had never felt that hint of guilt in her whenever he had openly accused her of taking it. Then why had she looked so guilty as she looked at him earlier? Maybe it had not been guilt. Maybe it had been dread. They had been speaking about the research of the Crystals. What had she already known about that? He thinks about that night that they met and of her wonderment as she had asked him what he thought the light was. To him it had always just been something that was there to taunt him of the death that he had missed. To her, it had been something of amazement.

What did he think of the light now? Images of his dream came to the forefront of his mind. Two white flowers being placed in his empty hands by a blue eyed angel that he had almost believed had never existed. Her blond hair a shining beacon of hope in a sea of black. Tears that had been formed because of her sympathy. He remembers how he had felt as if he had already known her as soon as he had seen her. Something about her that he had to know and could not remember. So many things had happened since that day in the rain and he tries so hard not to think about that day. By shoving that memory from his mind, he had buried her memory as well. To think that his sympathetic beacon had grown up to become the shining source of his light.

Now she would be used against him. She had always been used against him in some way. It means that they had always known how he would feel about her. As impossible as that sounds, he believes this. He thinks about the two faceless lovers locked in the eternal embrace. Their heads had been severed in anger, as if the vision of them had insulted. So they had been disfigured to hide the scene's completion to forever frustrate those that would look upon it later. There was nothing so frustrating as a kiss that had almost been, of a touch that had never been felt. He knew the feeling of having both denied. Now he knew the taste of what fulfillment would feel like and he hopes that when this was all over, he would feel the completion.

The thought nearly has him sneering at himself. Hope. Evil things had not the luxury for something like hope. They took hope away from those too weak to fight back. They stole hope from others as he had stolen the hope of life from his parents. He makes himself think about the resentment that had been on Stella's face when she had confessed his effect on her. He can accept her resentment more than he could ever accept her heart. Bitter emotions were easier to hold onto than the happier ones.

The ship dips down in its descent and stops him from continuing his useless ramblings as he now stands outside the ship upon the deck. There is no time to ponder over things that are not productive. No matter the why, there would always be the abyss between him and her. He focuses his eyes on the familiar sight of his city beneath him. What repercussions would he have to face once this was all over?

"Noct, where do you want me to land?"

He closes his eyes and inhales as he opens his awareness.

"We are going to have to separate," he answers when a picture flashes through his mind. His eyes are blue when they open again and he almost chokes as he realizes what is going to happen. The chasm is too wide. They could not be as he had dreamt. He does not understand what this means.

"Noct?"

"Drop me off at the highest point and get to the airfield," he orders. "He is going to try and steal an airship."

"That building right there?" asks Cal as they make their way to the highrise beside the Temple of Etro.

How fitting, he thinks.

"I am going to jump," he says to himself moreso than to his friends. He was going to take a risk. Leaping over the railing he freefalls for a few feet before reappearing on his feet at the top of the building. He looks up and nods at ship before it turns to head towards the airfield.

There is no time for thought. He cannot think about it as he jumps off the edge of the building. Teleporting here and there until he lands on his feet in the small alley between buildings. His feet do not even have time to fully land before he's propelling himself forward into a fast run. It does not make sense but he will not stop to think about it. He does not even want to think about what he plans to do once he gets there. There is no plan at all. He does not know what he is going to do once he reaches her.

He comes to a sliding stop as he reaches the main street. It is then that he pauses in hesitation. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why was this happening like this? She stands there in an outfit of white and black, waiting for him to come. As he looks at her, he wonders if this is a test of destiny. This was either the bridge over the abyss or the fall into the never ending darkness. She had not been looking at him when he had first approached but she turns her face when she realizes that he has come. He takes a hesitant step towards her. Her face then. He does not think he will ever forget the look on her face. She makes to run to him and he sees the Stella that is real.

The shift within her is almost too quick to catch. Not for him. He had spent so many obsessive moments staring at her closely that he sees it as it happens. He notices and feels the change immediately. Along with the change, his rune flashes blue as his instinct feels the danger that she poses. He looks back at her and sees that there is no trace of the Stella that he longs for. Her eyes, those wonderfully expressive seas of blue, turn almost red as her own rune flashes gold and she unsheathes her rapier. He unsheathes his own as he glares at this version of Stella that he does not recognize. It angers him to see this mock version of her. A twisted imitation when he had wanted the original so much.

His eyes remain blue and do not change, even as she charges forth and their swords clash together. Golden and blue sparks light up the street as false day fights against black night. She takes advantage of his hesitation and slashes down in an effort to separate his head from his body. He teleports away but she is already upon him again as he reappears. Her moves are like golden streaks as she swings and swipes in order to cut him. He knows now that there is no stopping her without… and he must do it. There is no time and he cannot hesitate anymore.

"Forgive me, Stella," he whispers just before he thrusts his sword in an opening and meets his mark.

The silence that follows as his sword meets her is almost deafening and never ending. He can feel her surprise of pain and he forces himself to watch her eyes as they go blank. Her body crumples and he catches her easily in his arms.

"Forgive me, forgive me," he begs into her hair as he clutches her to his chest. He looks down at the peaceful expression upon her lovely face with a shaky breath. Reaching up, he touches her face as he has wanted to for all this time and now too late. She would not feel his touch and neither would he. There was no feeling her warmth beneath the leather of his gloves.

"Noct, he's escaped!" shouts Phil in his ear. He can hear the ship hovering above them.

"So what was this for?" he asks angrily as he looks down at her.

A heart that he had always thought was dead feels colder than he has ever felt it. His eyes look at the heart that he wanted to have and wonders why.

"He will pay," he vows fervently to her. "I will make him pay."

He rises to his feet with her in his arms and carries her to return to the ship.

* * *

End Note: I know that when you finish reading this chapter you're going to be confused in an annoyed sort of way because it doesn't make sense. You're told one thing and then another happens. Much like life. You're told one thing only to have the opposite happen. It's in times like that, that you realize nothing works out as it should. But you can either work with it or let it lead you down the wrong way.


	11. Arto

A/N: I know the last chapter left some feeling a need for closure. It's been suggested that I write a companion piece from Stella's POV. I understand the need for closure, heck even I needed closure afterwards, but I don't think you'll find it there. This is Noctis' story and it's his closure that you need to feel. If you think about it, Stella wouldn't have closure. You're not even sure if she was even aware of what was going on. It would read like a sentence that was never finished and that would be even more frustrating in the end.

Arto is Latin for "to press together, to reduce."

_**Chapter Eleven: Arto**_

Tenebrae did not look any different than when they had left it a few days earlier. The buildings were still shorter than he was used to and they were still a little too cheerful. They still made him feel a bit uncomfortable with their liveliness. He still appreciates the anonymity that he is offered while being here. That would be something he would always appreciate about being here. It would have been a good trip had he ever gotten a chance to accept Stella's invitation. An invitation that would never be extended again. He fights the bile from rising up his throat as he thinks of this. Those possibilities of the past can do nothing for him now. The loss of them will hurt him in the long years of his life yet to come. It was a loss more acutely felt to someone who had never known what it was like to keep something precious. So different from the spoiled Prince who knew nothing about settling for second best. This was the reality that hides in the illusion of façade. He never had anything that mattered. But now is not the time to be dwelling on that.

The difference in Tenebrae is not the things seen but rather the things unseen. It was what was in the air. When before, there was only that hint of evil, now the air was saturated with it. The evil had grown stronger in his absence and he knows it is the added benefit of his Crystal. His Crystal that had been manipulated and exploited against him. Though, perhaps, not entirely so. He can take comfort in that. At its core, the Crystal still recognized and called to him for aid. Its call combined with the stronger presence of that evil, there is no longer a need to search. His body moves as if guided by its own instinct. The rest of his senses are honed in on that figure that he has vowed to see again. That need for retribution and revenge overshadows the wariness he should be feeling. What was there to fear when one was already rejected by Death? His purpose has always been to kill. That is all he ever seems to do well. He lets that need for satisfaction overtake him so he does not have room to think about anything else.

The dripping sounds of water echo in these catacombs of cold stone. He passes the skeletal remains of people long dead, but he does not pay them much mind as he continues on. For they had been fortunate to die when he had not. There is another shift in the air and it alerts him. They are now aware of his presence here. They sense his approach and his malicious intent. They must, he is sure the darkness is radiating in full as he gets ever closer to them. He is mindful to grasp their reactions to his approach to prepare himself. He senses, nervousness? The other presence is nervous of him? Though it has grown stronger, he can feel now that it is not yet strong enough to challenge him. Still, that did not mean it would not lash out in desperation as it had done before in throwing him towards Stella to divert him. Small things were not to be underestimated afterall. He puts those thoughts away because he wants to focus on the one he plans to unleash his dark hatred upon. The fiend who had brought him back to Tenebrae.

The air becomes so thick, he can almost taste the death that surrounds him. He passes by penitent stone figures, forever captured with a look of absolute terror upon their chiseled faces. Their forms cause a look of disgust to cross his face. Even he is not evil enough to think that artistic. Savoring the fear of innocents was not what he thrived on. To have them carved as such to look upon and enjoy was vile. It is as he passes more of these horrified figures that he finally comes upon the door. A heavy door crafted with thick wood from ancient times. Between the cracks, the blue glowing light escapes and he knows he has finally arrived. He focuses his gaze upon the door and watches as it blows off its own iron hinges and flies into the room with a loud splash in the blue glowing waters.

That insolent figure of white has his back to him as he makes his way into the chamber. It turns its hooded head to give him an evil glean before revealing his face and turning around to fully face him. He sees the red glowing eyes that were so similar to his own. The figure throws out his hand and he reacts by unsheathing all weapons around him, even as he is surrounded by something. He looks at it with a frown but does not take his attention away from the man. Whatever it is, it will not stop him now. Nothing will stop him now.

"Have you killed her then?" the figure asks.

"Why did you want me to?" he spits out venomously.

"It was unfortunate," but it does not sound unfortunate from his tone.

"Why did you use her?" he demands.

"I needed her," the man responds with a sneer. "But her usefulness was over. It is you that I need and I knew that her death would lead you back to me."

"What is your plan then?" he asks, because he cannot fathom how this plan would have succeeded. It was all wrong.

He feelings a tingling in his skin, much like it had before he felt the scorching fire in his blood. His eyes make a quick sweep of the force field he is entrapped in and has a good idea of what it was for.

"Every experiment needs a test subject," the man says with a shrug. "I tried to create a Crystal by channeling Stella's powers, but she was not strong enough."

Of course she would not be. There always had to be two. It was obvious that this villain did not know that. Would it not have been written in the books that he had obviously stolen?

"As you can see," says the man as he motions to a small, pathetic looking thing behind him. The thing that he had been staring at before he had entered the room. "It only partially worked."

That, that was the thing that he had felt, was alive because this man had taken Stella's gift.

"Through several trials and errors, I finally realized how I could perfect the process."

Several trials and errors. Had they all been conducted on Stella?

"No, Stella was not the first," the man answers, reading the expression on his face. "None of them were strong enough to even get this far, but Stella was. At least she was at first."

"What happened?" he demanded.

"I must have drained too much, as I had the others. She was not strong enough in the end either," the words make his vision almost blur in anger. "It was only a matter of time before she would have died anyway. So you only aided in the inevitable."

He closes his eyes for a moment as he processes this. Misinformed and insane. What exactly had those missing books contained?

"But you, Prince Noctis, are different than all the others," adds the white figure with a sneer. "Not only have you kept your own Crystal alive by using your own strength, you have done so without losing any of your own."

"You give me too much credit," he spits. He would not endure flattery from this madman.

"You were always the stronger," the figure says. "You are the first to have resisted my attempts to take over your mind."

"You are a fool," he says as he laughs bitterly. "Do you know what you have done?"

"I will bring about the Adventum of Aduro."

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "You have stopped it from even happening by draining Stella of her energy."

"You seek to trick me?"

"There is no need to," he answers and he thinks of all the wasted lives. Such a waste, for nothing! He remembers the bone weary exhaustion that he had seen in her eyes. It had not been the type of tiredness from someone who had missed a night of sleep. It had been the look of someone who had been drained. "The process you seek to perfect will never be accomplished because Stella was the key."

The figure frowns at him.

"You can drain me all you like but you will not give your Crystal what you seek," he hisses. "The Adventum can only be achieved if Stella and I are together."

There is no moment that he spares the figure to think this over. He lets his trembling anger run free then. It ripples in waves as it crashes into the field around him and shatters it in a light of blue. His sword appears in his hand as the figure leaps for him to attack. Blue light fills the room as they clash again and again. They both leap back only to attack a moment later. He does not show this thing any restraint. There is no hesitation in his moves as he slices flesh and rips apart the body of this _thing_. This thing that was too evil to be alive. The evil responsible for killing off those like him in the most cruel and unimaginable way. How had Stella felt when she had experienced the first burning sensations of someone else's mind driving her body? This thing had to die for at least in death, it would not harm another again.

Blue water is red when he stops. The stone floor is a mess of bloody pieces. His panting breathes are the only sound to echo off the hollow walls. He has to calm himself enough to stop the shaking in his hands as he tries to keep his sword clutched within his hand. His eyes look down at the mangled body at his feet. There is no lasting satisfaction with this kill. He wishes he could bring him back for the sole purpose of killing him again. For what this villain had done. For what it had wanted to do. He thinks of his parents and the life he had stolen from them. Their sacrifice for his sake. He thinks of Stella and what was stolen from her. Taken from her just as he had taken from his parents. Only he had never understood how he had done it. He had not even wanted to do it and he does not understand how he had. It was not the same. His was unintentional whereas this had been forced. A gift that had been given for the rejection of Death to be used to kill others with like gifts. Not because they had been evil themselves, but for their gifts. For their power? His anger is so hot he feels the water tremble at his feet.

Within the bloodied hand of his fallen enemy he sees his Crystal. It was still red from its misuse and if it had not already been severed from that thing's arm, he thinks he might have done it then. He reaches for it and carefully lifts it into his grasp. At the first touch of his hand against it, he feels it shine blue once more. He notices the flicker of its energy for the first time and wonders just how much longer he can manage to keep it alive.

_Not for much longer._

His eyes look over at the abominable thing that rests against the wall. The thing created from Stella. Slow, deliberate steps have him stand just before it and he wonders what he is supposed to do. He carefully places his own Crystal within a pocket of his belt and raises his hand towards it. He can feel the trembling of fear within it through his mind as he starts to reach for it and stops short to take a long look at it instead. Earlier, when he had sought it out, it had thrown him at Stella. He had thought that it had sensed his own attachment to Stella. Looking at it now, he wonders if he was wrong about that. If it contained something from Stella, would it have done so because it knew that she would protect it? Even unconsciously. As he would protect his own Crystal? It begs the question of, if it had been possible for Stella to convert her own energy to give this one life, could it be put back?

_Possible but never the same._

She had not been able to make it whole. So it was incomplete. There was no long span of life for this thing that he was watching. He reaches out and picks it up when he realizes this.

"I will not harm you," he promises gently and it seems to twinkle in his hand in welcome. He closes his fingers around it as he turns to make his way back out. Back to a world that would not welcome him, but he was stuck with it as much as it was stuck with him. This world of living things that would never understand what it was like to face death and be granted such power. All this time, he had thought himself separate and only dark. Was he really so dark now?

The trip back to the surface is a haze. It is something that he does not think he will ever be able to recall. All he knows is that he had held that delicate crystal in his hand as if he had been holding her life. That it had come from her, no matter how evil the means, did not matter. It was still a part of her. It was an evil, but that it was a piece of her he could not have left it there. Any piece of her was worth preserving in his mind. Because nothing of hers could truly be evil. He believes that.

He is on the street and the afternoon sun is soon to set. The street is just as busy as it had been before. People walked by, heedless of the dangers that had crept so closely below. A danger that they would never have to worry about because of people like him. Other dark beings that made sure that they did not have to. The people here are not like the people of his city. They did not seem aware. Or maybe they were all like Cal and Stella and only seeing the good. That would not surprise him. He walks on amongst them. A dark figure amongst a lively crowd. Turning a corner, he disappears from view to reappear above to meet with his friends. They have been waiting for him beside the car that they seemed to have successfully reclaimed from the repo lot.

"Is it over?" asks Phil.

"Not quite," he says walking towards Cal.

"Glad you're all right, Noct," grins Cal. "Bastard's dead though, right?"

He gives Cal a firm nod before he opens his hand and shows him the crystal.

"Is that your Crystal?" asks Cal as he looks down at it in wonder.

"No," he says shaking his head and almost cannot speak the words. "This is Stella's."

"How? What?" Cal asks with that usual look of bafflement.

"When she wakes, she will be very weak," he explains. "This will help her. Make sure that she keeps it close to her until I can find a way to save her."

"Save her? Noct, you already saved her," argues Cal.

"Things have happened," he says and finds that he does not have the will to explain just now. "I cannot tell you now just what they were, but she needs to keep this with her always."

Cal gives him another confused look before accepting and taking the Crystal from his hand.

"I'll make sure she does," Cal assures him. He watches Cal hold it like it was as precious as it really was and he can breathe a sigh of relief.

He nods in response and turns to step closer towards the edge of the bridge. His steps falter as he comes a few feet from reaching it. He looks towards the only building that is clearly in view from where he stands. To a place he wishes he could enter, but knows that he shall not. All he can do is stand there and look at it as if he were really looking at _her_. So he contends with merely looking at the castle that houses her sleeping form.

The image of her slumbering form will be the picture he will think of when he fights within himself for why he was struggling so hard to stay away from her. He thinks back to their fight and remembers the move he had struck to render her completely unconscious. She would have a headache once she woke and he is sorry for the pain it will cause her. He will remember the way she had felt in his arms when he had carried her to her rooms and laid her gently within her bed. Of the softness of her skin after he had taken off his gloves for the sole purpose of feeling the texture. The sound of the sigh from her lips as he had traced his fingers over them in silent yearning. The kiss good bye that he never gave her because he did not deserve it. All these things he had engrained in his mind to recall in the long dark hours that he will have to suffer being without her.

He had jumped across the abyss, only to be yanked back. To jump again, he knew now that he would always make it. There was nothing to stop him from reaching her once he did. But he would not jump again. To reach her, would be to risk her life. Together they would be forced to create the power to renew the world. Only, she did not have the strength to hold up her end. To join them together now would mean to kill her. So he will not jump. Because he will not risk her. If the world crumbled because the crystals all disappeared, he still would not jump. Nothing was worth risking her. No matter how selfish that was, the world could die around them, but he still would not risk her in that way.

So he would find a way. Find a way to renew her energy to fulfill what they had been meant for. Only until then would he be able to jump across this wide abyss between them and finally join her on the other side. There can be no other way.

It's with this decision that helps him turn around and head back toward the car.

"So you guys are really going?" asks Cal behind them.

"For now," answers Phil.

"Gonna miss us?" asks Durus sarcastically, but they all know that he really wants to say he would miss Cal too.

"Yeah, I think I will," answers Cal with a grin.

He opens his door and looks back at the other man. "Take care of her," he asks.

"Will do," answers Cal with a wave of the crystal in his hand. "Do you have anything you want me to tell her?"

He shakes his head.

"Noct," says Phil with a disappointed look on his face.

The look tempts him to roll his eyes despite how heavy he feels right now.

"Tell her… this is not good bye," he finally says. "And Cal, I would appreciate it if you did not tell her why I... I cannot have her trying to help. Not with this."

"She's not going to like it when she does find out," warns Cal.

"I will make it up to her when she does," he says. At least, he hopes that his finding a cure to save her would be enough.

Cal nods and watches as the three of them step inside the car and close their doors.

As Phil starts the engine and they start the long journey back to Nihilsomno, he thinks about all the challenges that he will face once he gets there. It does not worry him that they will endanger him or his friends. He worries about the time it will take to settle his kingdom so that he can settle what needs to be done. There were so many things to be done. The time would pass by him and he worries what it will change. He had always been an advocate for change, but he does not want this feeling to change. The further they drive away, the more he feels as if he were being pressed together and reduced. It was a distance that he had to keep but feels the pain that it brings. His dead heart feels half empty.

The sun is a mere flash of gold now as it disappears behind the mountain side and they are reaching the beginnings of VallisAcerbus again. He was returning to his never ending night. Only now, he knew there was a light coming on the horizon. This was his rebellion against fate. This was his smirk against irony. This was his revolt against fortune. They that had been fickle and clever in controlling him all his life. He would not let them bind him now. There is nothing that will stop him from what he knows that he must do and who he must do it for.

* * *

End note: From the very beginning, the theme throughout Adventum has always been about control. Whether it be other people influencing him or the things in life that just put a wrench in his plans. Noctis complains about this a lot in Adventum and resents it but he doesn't really do anything about it. In Abyssus he realizes what must be but then, as always, life puts a wrench in things. He could have easily given in to that and paid the price severely later. In the end, he's telling everything that stands in his way to shove it because they're not going to stop him anymore. There is no better thing than to not let anything stop you from what you know to be right, no matter the price you pay to see it happen.

Epilogue to follow.


	12. Epilogue: Denuo

_**Epilogue: Denuo**_

(anew, again, a second time)

"_With the approaching beginnings of the 14th peace conference between the Kings and Nihilsomno, the city is hosting its most noble guests at the welcoming gala. King Noctis hopes to make an announcement that will reshape our world."_

On the precipice of change, he finds himself unable to do little else but nurse the drink in his hand and try to at least look as if he is interested in what the dignitaries in front of him are saying. The entire group of delegates were eagerly awaiting the news that he was going to announce at the peace conference the next day. Each had, in their own way, tried to get any sort of hint out of him that would give them an idea as to how he planned to reshape their world. Any attempts were always met with a smirk and proper excuses. No hints would cross his lips nor the lips of his companions. They would all find out together and he doubts any of them can guess what it is. What he can finally show them. Finally, after so long.

It has been so long that he almost does not remember the details of how things had finally come to be. He tries to go back to that time and finds that the memories are hazy in the aftermath of so much toil. It had been a fight. A fight in so many ways. He can recall that those first nights had been the hardest. He can remember those well at least. Nights that had previously been occupied with lazy brooding had turned into pacing hours of endless longing. Events too fresh that had left a permanent mark. Memories of their tension laced moments together and the feel of her body beneath his made him weak. The need to reach out and touch and the moment he finally had. He would have almost been tempted to stop the silence and see her then. Then, in those moments of weakness that had been frequent at first. It was within those moments that he made himself recall the image of her lying in his arms as though dead. A reminder of the risk he would take if he gave up and went to her before he was ready. An image that could easily stir a nightmare. That was the image he kept to keep his distance.

The first thing to be done was gain power. With the triumphant return of the Crystal, it had not been very hard to demand the coronation that he had been due. The same coronation that had been postponed again and again to the many excuses made up by the Concilium. They had not been able to forestall it any longer. As soon as he had left the limits of the Nihilsomno to chase after it, the city had suffered from the loss. He had not had the time to notice during the brief moments he had stopped there before racing to Tenebrae, but the people had noticed the absence of the Crystal and had demanded its recovery. A recovery that the Concilium had failed to provide. The people had looked upon him as their hero for the return of their most precious possession. That had been the easy part. It had only been mere months later that he was officially king and had taken his place among his ancestors to continue their dynasty.

The second thing had taken considerably longer. He had pursued it with a dogged determination that left him no more time to waste nights pacing. Every moment that he had not been overseeing the matters of his kingdom, he was using to find the answers that he needed. After some digging, Phil had managed to discover the books that the villain had taken. The contents had left him feeling so angry that he had thrown them all in the fire to burn and never to be looked at again. Experiments and tests of those like him that had been tortured to death and all for a vain cause. Evidence of the waste that he wished he could fully avenge for their sakes. There had been other sources, but none with specific details. Most, it seemed, had only vague hints that only alluded to things and not the things themselves. The first year had born very little that was helpful.

Another two years had gone by before they had finally caught a significant break. Two years without any real findings and he had almost lost his mind in frustration. Any clue that he could uncover had been a struggle and fight against something. One lead had led to another and then a dead end. Then it was one dead end after another and the fighting seemed to be in vain. It had been an almost endless cycle until one night, in the wee hours of twilight, that they had stumbled onto something that they could use. Durus had been reading an old tome from the ancient archives that mentioned the events of the First Light. It had not been the first tome to mention the event so it had not particularly excited them until Durus had kept on reading. It was the first document to confirm that his dreams had been telling him the truth. That there would always need to be two.

There was mention of a tale of old. A tale of two lovers. A man of the night falls for a woman of the day. It was not a tale of indescribable happiness and perfection, but a tale of patience and steadfastness. For the man of the night knew nothing of what it was to live in the light and the woman of the day knew nothing but fear in the night. As day and night are, these two would be forever together yet eternally apart. Until such time as the moon hovers over the sun or the sun hovers over the moon. Rare occurrences that were the only times these two lovers could be joined.

Of course that had not satisfied him because he had every intention of being with Stella always, once he found out what it was that would be required of him to save her. There was no possible way that he would be separated from her to only meet so little as that tale had insinuated.

Then he had found the most disparaging bit of information closer to the close of that third year, about himself. Of what his role was. As the moon was merely a reflection of the light of the sun, so was he. It not only meant that his survival was dependant on Stella, but it also meant that he would be taking her power as well. It described him as some sort of leech. A parasite that naturally had to feed off of her. This discovery had been one of the blackest moments of his life. That he would suck the life from her as he had taken the life from his parents. He was an even bigger monster than the vile thing he had destroyed. It meant he was an even bigger threat to her than that monster had ever been. What did that say about his nature? What did that say about him?

He had immediately despaired. It had not been an encouraging find. It was also incredibly bad timing when he received word from Cal not that long after he had found out this fact. Cal, who had continued to surprise him with his continued friendship and support. The man really did look too brightly on even the darker things of life. He had not been sure to feel admiration or bafflement. Maybe a bit of both. The news from Cal had him tempted to sink even further into himself. It was about Stella's health. While it had not been particularly dire news, it had not been good news either. Stella's father had passed after struggling for so many years with illness and she had taken the blow very severely.

It left him even more frustrated. He wanted to be there. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to be that shoulder she cried on and the arms she needed to hold her. Yet with this new information, he knew to do so would only make things worse for her. He could not risk her. He could not endanger her. So when the announcement of the King of Tenebrae's funeral had been received, he could only allow Legatus and Phil to represent Nihilsomno in his stead. There had been no other choice. The day of the funeral, he had mourned her loss and had spent the day, deep within the archives, looking at tomes with eyes that could only see her tears. There had been little that could console him, even when Phil had returned. The only comfort had been knowing that it had been for her benefit that he had not gone himself.

When the fourth year had been reached, he realized one thing. It was pointed out by Phil one day as the thought had struck him. It was a point that was so obvious that he felt like a complete idiot when Phil had pointed it out. If he was such a leech, than how was it that his own strength could keep almost half of Nihilsomno alive and functioning? There was hope after that, a shift in the air around him. Another defiance against Fate. Even though it still did not answer the all important question, how did one recharge a dying star? It would be as difficult to figuring as how to save a dying crystal. Which no one had ever been successful at. Needless to say, it had been a positive revelation and a daunting task all at once.

His Crystal had always provided him with cryptic messages and vague statements. He had never minded it before but by then it had begun to aggravate him. There had been no dreams to help either. Phil had asked him to write down any details that he remembered from that one dream. The one that had offered such unknown insight. After four years, the details had, understandably, been more than a little hazy. He had also not been himself at the time. Having been injured and nearly having his body taken over by an evil villain. Then upon awakening, had found out that Stella had stolen his Crystal and the things that happened after that. If those memories had started to become distant, how much more so a dream. Dreams, which were harder to recall when he had, had such pressing matters to open his eyes to.

Even the details of those days had begun to fade. His feelings not as intense as they had been. The drive was still there, but the moments when he forgot the why were becoming more frequent as the time went on longer since he had last seen her. Stella had become his hope rather than the thing to possess. The goal rather than the obstacle. Until she became like a dream herself. The yearning had faded but the want had not. He wanted Stella still, but he did not waste many thoughts on just how much. It was a given and no longer had to be addressed after so many inner debates.

Then Durus had offered a rather far fetched theory about the situation. That maybe his and Stella's roles were reversed in the aftermath of what had happened to her. Not possible to him, but it had led to a thorough examination of his powers. Phil had computed the amount of energy Nihilsomno consumed in a day. Then computed the amount of energy that the Crystal actually emitted to help with that provision. Only then could they determine just how much energy was his own strength. It had been hard to recall how much of the city had remained light when the Crystal had been taken. He remembered when he had been reunited with his Crystal and how it had flickered like a dying bulb. When he concentrated, he also remembered that Stella had never looked exhausted when he was with her. She had been weak and tired looking after he had been asleep for that day, but he cannot say she looked that way before. He is sure he would have noticed if she had, considering how closely he had always been watching her. He tried to remember how she had looked while she had slept after their final confrontation. Had she looked more weakened or had she been showing improvement at his nearness?

As far as he had known before, the moon was a relatively dead rock. Until they found research stating that within the moon's crust, the core was hot. So it would have not have been entirely impossible for the moon to produce its own energy. It was merely dormant, inaccessible. His power was not dormant persay, but it was not easily accessible either. That information had helped greatly to ease his worries. To extend his powers, it was just his own will that made things happen the way they did. It had been instinct rather than training that had made them possible. A reflex instead of a conscious reaction. Never had he felt an extension of himself or an exertion that would cause him to tire. His battles never lasted long enough for him to see just how long he could keep going either.

They had ventured to Glacies again and taken hold of the ruined statue of the lovers. He had wanted to see if there was anything that he could do to restore it. Which had led to an examination of what the worn and tattered tapestries had contained so long ago. Anything that would be able to provide him clues. Until he realized that the tapestries each contained a clue to a map. Sort of a legend to help direct him. To where, he had not been certain, but he had a feeling and he needed to try. They had led him to a deep cavern, hidden within the depths of the snowy mountains. Within the caves, was a labyrinth of little tunnels that only the map could direct you through successfully. At the end, he had found something equally startling. He had found a cave of inactive Crystals. He and Phil had known that the secret group had found something in the mountains, but he had not known that this would be it. The Crystals were inactive in that they were not of any use unless they were given life. Life that only he and Stella together, would be able to give. That is, if she had not had her strength wiped from her on an ill and gruesome attempt.

To see proof that their union had been prepared for, gave him renewed hope. After that, things began to take shape rather rapidly. When they had found the answers, he had marveled at how simple it all was. Nothing complicated and nothing complex. The light would come again and nothing was going to stop its arrival. As the eclipses were inevitable, so would be the meeting of his moon to her star. They would always come together, no matter how long it took.

The orchestra plays a song in the background and as the melody builds he looses himself for a moment when he sees her enter through the other side of the hall. It is the first time he has seen her in so very long a time that his eyes do not see anything else but her. She looks about the hall as someone aids her in taking off her jacket. He feels a swell of pride when he watches the astonishment in her gaze as she takes in the décor. It was so important to him that it please her and it pleases him to see her so. The white dress that she wears shines like a ray of hope in a sky that had forgotten what it was like to see the sun. Just by looking at her, he feels the years had been worth the results. It had all been worth the sacrifice and the fight and the distance.

His attention is divided before he can meet her eyes when he is drawn into a conversation with an envoy from a distant land. A land that he does not remember because his mind is still on her figure as she makes her way around the hall. He feels her presence in the air and within his mind. It feels like a cool breeze on a summer's day, refreshing and potent. There's a feeling of completeness now that they are in the same room after so many years a part. She looks different, older but no less desirable as the last time he had seen her. When he had seen her looking so peaceful as he had laid her upon the sheets of her bed in Tenebrae. The touch that he had not been able to withhold and the tingling in his fingers once he had allowed them to touch her face. The sweet sigh that had escaped her lips when he had. The kiss he had not given her. He has never considered the lone kiss they had shared to count. Not when he had been so confused and so blinded by his hurt of her betrayal. That kiss had been born of emotions that should not have been there for their first kiss. But he can remember the way she had felt beneath him. How even within those tense moments of undeniable attraction and unforgivable betrayal, her body had been pliant and accepting of his. Accepting when she should have been struggling and he knew the reason she had not. It makes him almost shudder.

He feels her presence behind him before she can even utter a word. When she does speak, her voice is like a soothing lullaby to ease his racing mind.

"Hello Lord Noctis," she says when he turns around to face her.

There is a kind smile on her face and he does not hide the need in his eyes as he seems to devour her features.

The impact as all the memories resurface is like a tidal wave that almost has him staggering back. All those longing thoughts that had him in barely suppressed control just bubbled forth onto the surface, even after all this time. Suddenly he was back to that time when thoughts of her permeated his mind to the point where she was all he could think about. His hands grow sweaty as he feels the need to reach out and touch her. The sudden impulse was as powerful now as it had been then. Perhaps moreso since it has been too long since the last touch. He does not realize he has not said anything in response until her smile almost wanes as he continues to stare at her so intently. Staring at her so intensely that it looks like his gaze causes the slight shiver he sees go through her body.

"Hello," he manages to say and his voice is remarkably steady.

She is close, so close. Yet not close enough.

"How are you?" she asks. She is holding a drink in her hand and her grip looks a little bit tense. It is as tense as he feels as he continues to stare at her.

"I have been busy," he answers and she lets out a friendly laugh at his vague answer. It makes her eyes sparkle and his heart begins to race. "You look well." She does look well. She looks very well. One could almost believe that there was nothing terribly wrong with her.

She smiles brightly again and for some reason, it causes his eyes to look down at the necklace that she wears.

"Thank you," she says politely and she unconsciously reaches for the pendant hanging from her neck. "Do you like it?"

Like it was not the term that he would use to describe how he felt about her wearing the waning Crystal that had taken her brightness to live.

"Cal gave it to me," she says absently.

He is more relieved that Cal had heeded his advice and given it to her in a way that she would wear it always.

"It suits you," he says, not taking his eyes from it.

As he stares, he can almost feel the thing greet him in welcome.

A sharp intake of breathe from Stella has his eyes looking up at hers again. She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts.

"I just got the weirdest feeling just now," she says, not quite looking at him. Her eyes look glazed as she pauses to recompose herself.

"What feeling?" he asks, stepping closer to her.

He watches raptly as she takes a shaky breathe and exhales it. Could it be working already?

"I feel...," she says, not quite looking him in the eyes. "I feel almost..."

"Stella," calls a masculine voice from behind her.

He looks up to find a blond haired man of large build, standing behind Stella. A stranger to him, but definitely not a stranger to her.

"Yes?" she answers with an easy smile towards the stranger.

It is that easy smile that makes his heart stop beating.

"Perhaps we ought to leave now," the blond man suggests in a worried tone. His handsome face a picture of genuine concern. Then the man looks up at him apologetically, but there is no real recognition in the man's gaze. "I am sorry to cut your conversation short."

"No, no, you did not interrupt," Stella reassures him but she pauses when she sees the look that must be on his face when his eyes settle back on hers. "Lord Noctis, might I present, Divum?"

He waits for her to say something else. That perhaps this good looking, broad shouldered man was a relation of some sort, but she does not add anything other than his name.

"Lord Noctis, King of Nihilsomno," Divum says with a surprised look on his face. "A very big honor to meet you." The man offers his hand to him.

He looks at it a moment before he accepts with a very forced smile. "The honor is mine, Divum," he says and looks down at Stella again.

She does not move to answer him but he can sense that she is becoming uncomfortable standing between the two men.

"Shall we, Stella?" asks Divum, smiling down warmly at her.

"Yes, yes we should," she agrees, smiling up at him again. "It was very good to see you again, Lord Noctis."

"Will you never call me, Noct?" he asks instead.

He can see the hesitation in her eyes.

"I'll call you that the next time we meet," she promises, as she had promised them. He is not sure what to make of that but she gives him no time to reply before she is walking away from him with the other man.

This is not how he had foreseen things happening when he saw her again after five long years without her. He is not exactly sure what he had expected, but ending the night watching her leave with another man had not been it. There is nothing he can do but watch them as Divum helps Stella back into her coat and they leave the party all together.

"Noct, you look like you've seen a ghost," says Phil.

Suddenly his heart is in his throat and he almost chokes on it as he watches their retreating backs.

"This is worse than seeing a ghost," he answers as he walks to where they had disappeared, heedless of the eyes that follow him as he does so. He makes his way outside just in time to see their car drive away and he can make out the outline of her head as it drives away. "Much worse."

The stark denial and dreading acceptance gnaws at him as he watches the car until he can no longer see it on the street. This cannot be right. Yet he is not naïve enough to think that after five years Stella would not have acquired the interest of another. How ironic that the other had a name meaning, "Sky". Irony was as ever, never lost on him and he could have just let Fate be fickle as it always had been, but he had already determined that he would defy all of them to help and win Stella back. Yet he had never factored in a third party to this. Was he to be the third wheel to their unintentional crowd? There is this ache in his chest as he thinks of Stella with another. A heartbeat that seems pounding in his ears, though his heart feels like it is breaking. Even if it were by her choice that she stay with another, he cannot find it in himself to be pleased. He cannot even be pleased for her sake. Call it the selfishness on his part. That part that really was the spoilt prince that would never have to settle for second best. Because anyone other than Stella would always be second rate in comparison.

There are stares in his direction as he walks heedless through the streets. He does not care that they are confused and perhaps a little frightened to see him walking like a regular pedestrian on the sidewalks. He does not care that they are watching his every move as he makes his way towards the residence that Stella was to be housed in during her stay here. There is no room to care when he feels like the world has flown off its axis and he does not know how to gain his balance back. When he reaches the block, he teleports the rest of the way so that nobody can see him as he stares pathetically up at the lit window that he knows to be hers. He feels so lost and not himself. Five years of trying and trying and finally finding success. Only to see her leave with someone else. Someone else who represented the broad sky to their day and night. The sky did not change. It was the constant that the sun and moon could not be. Was that what she needed? Someone constant? He is not sure he has ever been constant, but his yearning for her had always been that. Did that count? Did it matter now? It must not.

Standing there, alone and unable to do anything else but he continues to stare up at the her window. That she would be with another now when he had felt like his heart had returned, only to be torn out again, seemed cruel. He had not let go of her so that another could grab hold of her instead. He remembers the envy that he had felt before. The jealous envy of those that had come before him and tasted her lips. Those in her past that had gone so that he might find her and covet her so. He feels the chill at recalling that. Now, he was one of them. One of those distant faces from her past that had left her to be longed for by another. That his face would be one of the many that he is sure had been before him, makes him feel ill. Yet what could he have expected? A creature as enchanting as Stella could not have gone unnoticed not to have them. She would never go unnoticed because she was all brightness. She was his brightness and that she should be with another made the dark world he had worked so hard to leave behind these last five years, become tempting once again.

"What is the nightmare and what is the reality?" he asks himself. "I wish I were asleep. Asleep so that I could wake and find this not to be true. For our true selves are asleep, lying dormant in the darkness of the night."

The light within the window goes out with a snap and it startles him from his musings. What was to be done now? Was this why the sun and moon eclipse so infrequently? Was this the separation that stopped them from uniting every night and every day? He would never allow himself to even think to share her, but he must if she has chosen another over himself. Their time together need only be brief and far between for them to work together and give life to the new crystals that had formed. He did not want brief. He did not want far between. He did not want other times. He wanted _every_ moment and _every_ time. That is what he had worked towards. That had been the hope he had kept within him as he had pushed himself. Now, to be defeated while he had been fighting so hard in such a simple way. It was the ultimate failure. He could almost hear the three constant enemies of his life laughing at him in the breeze that flew by his ears. This was something he could not fight. As powerful as he was, he could not fight this. It almost did not make sense that he could not. Then he looks up again at the darkened window and feels his own world darken with it. With a quick flick, the light was taken out. Left with nothing but a rapidly cooling heat that would be gone too soon. Then, there would be nothing left but the coldness that followed.

There were no options now. Not options with this lose of hope. A hope that died with the light of the window. Dashing up there and breaking down the door would do no one any good. The alternative was not much better. The next day he was set to announce the reshaping of their world. A way to renew what had been lost. It was to be his greatest success. Yet standing here, he realizes that would not have been his success. That would have been Stella by his side, always. Selfishness demanded he withhold his findings to avenge his broken heart. The world would crumble, but his pride would be intact if not his soul. That would be the way of darkness. That would be the return to the world that he had always lived. He could do it. No one would know.

Black hair swishes as he shakes his head from those thoughts. He was not that person anymore. He was not that evil that he had always thought he was. He was not quite light either, but he was somewhere in between. His mind goes back to the statue of the lovers. The one he and Stella had stared at together. It had been incomplete and had remained so in the whirl of discoveries they had made after he had brought it here. How fitting. It was incomplete, as he was now. Their embrace would always be unfinished. Taking another look at the dark window, he knows he will still make the announcement. If only to save her and that had been the real goal all along.

To _save _her. The second, had been to _have _her.

His head is bowed as he makes this decision. He had been standing here long enough. It was time to leave.

"Noct?"

His eyes fly up at the sound of his name and his entire body freezes at the sight that greets them. A vision in white that seems more dream than reality. The light that was supposed to be at the end of his dark tunnel. What could she be now?

"What are you doing here?" she asks, but she does not come any closer.

"You are here," he answers.

She frowns at him and shakes her head with confusion.

"I really do not understand you," she says.

"But you had wanted to before," he reminds her.

"You avoid me for five years," she accuses, but she does not look angry, only wounded. There is a sadness in her eyes that tears at him. "No word. No news. Nothing and now..."

"I was not ready," he says.

"You are now?"

"Yes," he answers firmly.

"Why now?"

"I have the answer." He looks down at the pendant still hanging from her neck.

She inhales quickly as she had before and her hand clasps her chest.

"Do you feel that?" he asks, taking a step towards her.

"Yes," she says breathlessly, before taking another quick breath as she feels it again. The hand over her chest tightens.

"You and I," he explains, taking another slow step towards her. "Cannot be a part. You told me once that you could not stay away from me. You know I felt the same."

She does not say anything and she does not move either as she watches him take another step closer.

"I had to stay away from you," he says. "As much as it pained it to do so. I had to."

"Why?"

"Because I needed to save you."

"Through avoidance?" she asks resentfully.

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "I know now that avoidance was a mistake."

She inhales with a gasp again.

"What does it feel like?" he asks curiously. It does not look painful, but she has such a look of awe and surprise on her lovely face. He is still a short distance away from her but with each step he can feel the energy begin to swirl. He does not need to explain because he knows she understands.

"Like a bolt. It tingles," she replies, but those words do not seem to be what she wants to say.

"That, is why I stayed away," he explains. "To find out how to do that. For _you_."

"You should have told me," she whispers accusingly, but she looks too confused to be angry. "Do you remember what happened the last time we spoke?"

It is a memory he does not like to replay.

"I do," he says regretfully.

"Then I wake up in my room and I could have sworn it was a dream," she says. "Except for this." She lifts her pendant.

His eyes flicker towards it a moment before his eyes return to hers.

"I know it was not Cal who gave this to me," she explains. "I know that there are things you have hidden from me. What are they?"

He does not answer that because he is more concerned with something else.

"So you wear it knowing it came from me and yet you...," he stops himself from accusing her of being with another. He stops himself because he has no right to accuse her, but he does feel a certain amount of smugness at the knowledge.

"What do you want from me?" she asks with another confused frown.

He is sure that the expression on his face when he looks at her now answers for him without words.

"What I have always wanted," he answers, taking that last step towards her. He can feel the tension and he is almost shaking from it as he reaches up to touch her face. "You."

As soon as his fingers touch her skin, it is like a burst of energy and tingles his skin, sending a shiver through his entire body. The raw power pulses like a real thing between them and he can finally see just how powerful they would always be. They only needed to be together. A glittering light, takes his eyes away from Stella to look down at the Crystal between them. Yet even knowing that this is was what they were destined to do, it marvels him to see the evidence of it. The pathetic thing, that looked on the verge of flickering out, now looks bright and full. Life shone vibrantly through its core and sparkled the area around them.

Stella gasps, bringing it up to her face.

"Did, did you do that?" she asks looking up at him in surprise.

"Not alone," he says leaning closer to her, watching closely as she turns her gaze to it again.

When her blue eyes reach his again, he can see that she somehow understands.

"This is why we cannot stay away from each other," she says weakly, as the discovery sinks in. Then she frowns. "All we have to do is touch?"

"It is a bit more complicated than that," he says. "Do you see the intensity of the light?"

He watches her eyes look down before she nods.

"Do you feel the tension from me?" he asks.

"Yes," she whispers.

"It is not just any sort of touch or connection," he explains. He forces himself to relax and takes several breathes before he can feel some control slip into place. His hand brushes down her arm, but this time, there is only the tingling sensation of touch. Nothing as powerful as before, but just as electric. "It must be intense."

It makes him linger on the notion that perhaps the intensity increases with the forbidden feeling of them together. That she belonged to another yet craved him. That lure would keep the intensity. He does not like that idea.

"You are making it sound simpler than it is," she chides.

"I am," he answers honestly. "How do you feel?"

"Confused," she says quickly. "All this time, I thought your distance was a rejection. Now you are telling me you were doing it for us. This is all happening too quickly. I have moved on with my life and you...why do you never go away?"

"I could ask the same from you," he says.

"This is your announcement tomorrow," she states, her eyes wide. "What did you think you were going to tell them about us?"

What did he think their relationship would be when he did, was the real question.

"What I thought and what I think now are different," he says vaguely. "It all depends upon you."

She looks away from him and bites her lip in indecision. There is a regret there that he does not wish to cause her. No matter the cost to himself, it was not a choice he should force her to make.

"We, can always be friends," he suggests weakly, though the idea of them as friends still makes him feel ill.

She shakes her head vehemently. "I don't want to be friends."

"I will not even mention your involvement then," he says. "They need only think it was me. So you need not worry about appearances sake."

"Appearances sake?" she asks looking up at him confused.

He manages a small smile. "Still not friends. Still not … we still do not know what we are to each other."

She nods weakly in agreement to that.

"You have moved on," he says, coming just that much closer. Their chests are almost touching and he can see her pulse quicken as the tension around them mounts and mounts. "I will not force you to do anything you do not wish. The decision must be yours."

He watches her face carefully to see if she understands. Of course she does. Her eyes are watery as they look back up at him.

"But I want you to know this," he says, raising his hand to stroke her face in a light, lingering touch. "I hope you try to understand that I have made mistakes. I am just a man." With his other hand, he reaches for her waist and pulls her the rest of the short distance between them and presses her tightly against him. "And when he holds you close. When he pulls you near. When he says those words that you need to hear. Know, that I wish I was him because those words are mine. Because it is I that wants to do all those things and say those words to you, _always_." He brushes his open lips against her parted ones once and savors the feeling and the taste. "It does not matter if you do not feel the same now or if you will never feel the same. My feelings will not change."

He releases her and takes a step back. She seems to stumble a little in the absence of his body and she looks overwhelmed and torn.

"You and I," he says taking another step back. "Can never stay apart, but I will not force you to stay with me."

He takes another step back, but he cannot turn his back to her just yet. Every muscle in his body is screaming in protest of being taken away from her, but he keeps on with his steps.

"The time to act is now," she whispers, but the words do not seem entirely hers. "For, what is coming, cannot be stopped."

He nods. "We will act, but it does not mean we… it does not mean we must be lovers."

"Like that statue," she says. There is something in her gaze but he cannot read it. "Unfinished and uncertain."

"But together all the same," he finishes.

"How am I to be with another without thinking of you?" she asks.

He can a twinge in his heart at her question, but there are not any words he can say. There was no way he could be with another without thoughts of her either.

"Your will has been robbed from you too much for me to try and rob you of it now," he says. "If you choose another, I will abide by it."

"And still bring forth the light?" she asks.

"Yes," he nods.

"Why?"

"Because that is what you would want."

The answer seems to surprise her.

"For me?" she asks weakly.

"Always," he answers firmly.

"So you mean to leave me here tonight, like this and then tomorrow still make the announcement."

"Yes."

"No matter my decision?"

"No matter," he confirms. He is far enough away now that to turn around was only appropriate. "Good night, Stella."

He turns around and is about to walk away when her voice stops him.

"Do you have the statue?"

"Yes," he says hesitantly. He does not understand the meaning behind the question.

"During your announcement tomorrow," she says. "The statue can finally be finished."

He whirls around in surprise to face her. He knows his eyes are wide with shock from her pronouncement.

"Finished?" he asks quietly.

"Finally to be complete," she says. "For always."

She does not give him anytime to reply or react, before she runs back inside and leaves him alone. His eyes watch her in gaping awe as she disappears inside the building. There is no sound around him in this silent night. There is only the frantic beating of a rapid pulse. Slowly, the cold, vacant heart in his chest widens. Those two holes left behind by his parents are filled and he realizes that now, he will never be dark again. He can never be dark now. Not when he can finally feel how the moon glows with the reflection of the sun. A sun that had just promised to always be there.

The light was finally coming, again.

_The end._

**

* * *

Author's End Notes:** My song quotes are all over the place. The mini storyline for the Epilogue was inspired by The Airborne Toxic Event's, "Sometime Around Midnight." Unwittingly, Bon Jovi's, "Always," made it's way in at the end there too.

I want to thank all my readers and reviewers for their constant support while writing these fics. It has been a long, arduous ride writing these different stories to completion but I can leave feeling accomplished. With this conclusion of Adventum Aduro, it starts my retirement/hiatus/holiday from fanfic writing. My last hiatus lasted five years and though I hope it does not take that long for me to write another fanfic again, it will be awhile before you read something else from me.

I know that I did not fully explain a few details but those were purposely left out in favor of keeping the mystery. Hopefully more info on the game will come quickly so that my fellow fanfic writers in this genre will be able to keep writing as they are. Thank you all!


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